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THE GREAT LONE LAND:

A NARRATIVE OF TRAVEL AND ADVENTURE

IN THE NORTH-WEST OF AMERICA.

Carr. W. F BUTLER, F.R.G.S.

AUTHOR OF “HISTORICAL EVENTS CONNECTED WITH THE SIXYTY-NINTH
REGIMENT,” ETC.

“4 full fed river winding slow,
By herds upon an endless plain.
* id e

’
AT PO Yee enegien Gates eid tment year we fH

ee ae

And seme one pacing there alone
Who paced for ever in a glimmering land,
Lit with a low, large moon.”

TEXNNyYson.

WITH ILLUSIRATIONS AND ROUTE MAP.

London :
SAMPSON LOW, MARSTON, LOW, & SEARLE,

CROWN BUILDINGS,~188, FLEET STREET.
1872.

esses 135563

- . . - —*

. i? ery ar oa

. Sn ee . t 4

wy ‘et ! ten ae mf “. / \

LONDON :
GILRERT AND RIVINGTON, PRINTERS,
ST. JOUN’S SQUARE.

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At York Paeccer ct Sas Ser thee Ewe mst warr
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a!

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RXel MSNA i WE To BIE.
“Ween £orot Sowa? be mee to sev.“ all thar T have

Te is wevteiee Team Senet Se en: eerie ae coermion

inte Seen We weer ection: wf De Sion would Lave

Geen more sumecetn the te qeeiive. Deuyie ure see

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raliv mere tee co Tetewe von ue mu nest) ae then
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Wlar of Se SST, GUT fate Se
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Critopesar Cher an Semtiun.

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a : ws

Semthen Wer, i: urfer thet Lie uetive stud amigla be

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astonished tyr the omudens of tine United Sucer, and Ly

the smemh eat poner of the ery of the Vote.
Usen t4s muem w oble tribe a ema siheact nd
ie Gare were myer an muvhing, hin oveniage
in Po fF SEN Siu i oye nyt: nyt af’ juik advasel pecs a7)

iv PREFACE.

the land of the great white medicine-man. But at length
the tribe grew discontented; they had expected to hear
the recital of the wonders seen by their chief, and lo!
he had come back to them as silent as though his wander-
ings had ended on the Coteau of the Missouri, or by the
borders of the Kitchi-Gami. Their discontent found vent
"in words.

“Our father, Karkakonias, has come back to us,” they
said; “ why does he not tell his children of the medi-
cine of the white man? Is our father dumb that he does
not speak to us of these things ?”

Then the old chief took his calumet from his lips, and
replied, “If Karkakonias told his children of the medi-
cines of the white man—of his war-canoes moving by
fire and making thunder as they move, of his warriors
more numerous than the buffalo in the days of our fathers,
of all the wonderful things he has looked upon—his
children would point and say, ‘Behold! Karkakonias has
become in his old age a maker of lies!” No, my children,
Karkakonias has seen many wonderful things, and his
tongue is still able to speak; but, until your eyes have
travelled as far as has his tongue, he will sit silent and
smoke the calumet, thinking only of what he has looked
upon.”

Perhaps I too should have followed the example of the
old Chippeway chief, not because of any wonders I have

looked upon; but rather because of that well-known

PREFACE. Vv

prejudice against travellers’ tales, and of that terribly
terse adjuration—*O that mine enemy might write a
book!” Be that as it may, the book has been written ;
and it only remains to say a few words about its title and
its theories. e

The “ Great Lone Land” is no sensational name. The
North-west fulfils, at the present time, every essential of
that title. There is no other portion of the globe in
which travel is possible where loneliness can be said to
live so thoroughly. One may wander 500 miles in a
direct line without seeing a human being, or an animal
larger than a wolf. And if vastness of plain, and mag-
nitude of lake, mountain, and river can mark a land as
great, then no region possesses higher claims to that dis-
tinction.

A word upon more personal matters. Some two months
since I sent to the firm from whose hands this work has
emanated a portion of the unfinished manuscript. I re-
ceived in reply a communication to the effect that their
Reader thought highly of my descriptions of real occurrences,
but less of my theories. As it is possible that the general
reader may fully endorse at least the latter portion of this
opinion, I have only one observation to make.

Almost every page of this book has been written amid
the ever-present pressure of those feelings which spring
from a sense of unrequited labour, of toil and service

theoretically and officially recognized, but practically and

vi PREFACE.

professionally denied. However, a personal preface is not
my object, nor should these things find allusion here, save
to account in some manner, if account be necessary, for
peculiarities of language or opinion which may hereafter
make themselves apparent to the reader. Let it be.

In the solitudes of the Great Lone Land, whither I am
once more about to turn my steps, the trifles that spring

from such disappointments will cease to trouble.

W. EF. iB.
April 14th. 1872.

CONTENTS.

CHAPTER I.

VAGE

Peace—Rumours of War— Retrenchment—A Cloud in the far West
—A Distant Settlement—Personal—The Purchase System—A
Cable-gram—Away to the West. : . . : : -

CUAPTER IL.

The “ Samaria”’—~Across the Atlantic—Shipmates--The Despot of
the Deck—“ Keep her Nor’-West "~-Democrat versus Republican
—<A First Glimpse—Bouston . . . - . : . .

CHAPTER 14.

Bunker—New York—Niagara—Toronto—Spring-time in Quebec—A.
Summons—A Start—In good Company—Stripping a Peg—An
Expedition—Poor Canada—Aun Old Glimpse at a New Laud—Rival
Routes—Change of Masters—The Red River Revolt—The Half-
breeds—Early Settlers—Bungliny—* Eaters, of Pemmicun”—
M. Louis Riel—The Murder of Scott. . . . . .

CHAPTER 1V.

Chicago—“ Who is S. B. D.?”—Milwaukie—The Great Fusiou—
Wisconsin—The Sleepiug-car—The Train Boy—Minnesota—St.
Paul—I start for Lake Superior—The Future City—“ Bust up”
and “ Gone on ”—The End of the Track - - .

CHAPTER V.

Lake Superior—The Dalles of the’St. Louis—The North Pacific Rail-
road-——-Fond-du-Lac—Duluth—Superior City—The Great Lake—
A Plan to dry up Niagara—Stage Driving—Tom’s Shanty again
—St. Paul and its Neighbourkoud . . . . . . .

te
GL

vill CONTENTS.

CHAPTER VI.

PAGE

Our Cousins—Doing America—Iwo Lessons—St. Cloud—Sauk
Rapids—“ Steam Pudding or Pumpkin Pic ?”—Trotting him out
—Awnay forthe Red River 2. 2% 2... ee,

CHAPTER VII.

North Minnesota—A beautiful Land—Rival Savages—Abercrombic
—News from the North—Plans—A Lonely Shanty—The Red
River—Prairies—Sunset—Musquitoes—Going North—aA Mosquito
Night—A Thunder-storm—A Prussian—Dakota—I ride for it—
The Steamer “ International”—Pembina . . - .

CHAPTER VILL.

Retrospective—The Ncurth-west Passage—The Bay of Hudson—Rival
Claims—The Old French Fur Trade—The North-west Company—
How the Half-breeds cume—The Highlanders defeated—Progress
—Old Fends . . . : : . . . . . .

CHAPTER IX.

Running the Gauntlet—Across the Line~Mischief ahead—Prepara-
tions—A Night March—The Steamer captured—Tho Pursuit—
Daylight—The Lower Fort—The Red Man at last—The Chief’s
Speech—A Big Feed—Making ready for the Winnipeg—A Delay
—I visit Fort Garry—Mr. President Riel—The Final Start—Lake
Winnipeg—The First Night out—My Crew . . . . .

CHAPTER X.

The Winnipeg River—The Ojibboway’s Mouse—Rushing a Rapid—
A Camp—No Tidings of the Coming Man—Hope in Danger—Rat
Portage —A far-fetched Islington—“ Like Pemmican” , .

CHAPTER XI.

The Expedition—The Lake of the Woods—A Night Alarm—<A close
Shave—Rainy River—A Night Paddle—Fort Francis—A Meeting
—The Officer commanding the Expedition—The Rank and File—
The 60th Rifles—A Windigo~—Ojibbeway Bravery—Canadian
Volunteers. . . . . 6 - . . - .

CHAPTER XQ.

To Fort Garry—Down the Winnipeg—Her Majesty’s Royal Mail—
Grilling a Mail-bag—Runoning a Rapid—Up the Red River—A
dreary Bivouac—The President bolts—The Rebel Chich—
Departure of the Regular Truoups - . e - eee

105

113

. 143

155

180

CONTENTS.

CHAPTER XIII.

PAGE

Westward—News from the Outside World—I retrace my Steps—
An Offer—-The West -- The Kissaskatchewan—The Inland Ocean—
Preparations—Departure—A Terrible Plagne—A lonely Grave—
Digressive—The Assineboine River—Rossette . . . .

CHAPTER XIV.

The Hudson Bay Company—Furs and Free Trade—Fort Ellice—
Quick Travelling—Horses—Little Blackie—Touchwood Hills—A
Snow-storm—The Sonth Saskatchewan—Attempt to cross the
River—Death of poor Blackie—Carlton . : - . . .

CHAPTER XV.

Saskatchewan—Start from Carlton—Wild Mares—Lose our Way—
A long Ride—Battle River—Mistawassis the Cree—A Dance -

- CHAPTER XVI.

The Red Man—Leave Battle River—The Red Deer Hills—A long
Riée—Fort Pitti—The Plague—Hauling by the Tail—A pleasant

Companion—An casy Method of Divorce—Reach Edmonton . .
’

CHAPTER XVII.

Edmonton—The Ruffian Tahakooch—French Missionaries—West-
ward still—A beautiful. Land—The Blackfeet—Horses—A “ Bell-
ox”? Soldier—A Blackfoot Speech—The Indian Land—First Sight
of the Rocky Mountains—The Mountain House—The Mountain
Assineboines—An Indian Trade—M. la Combe—Fire-water—A
Night Assault a

CHAPTER XVIII.
Eastward—aA beautiful Light - : - . oe : - .

CHAPTER XIX.

I start from Edmonton with Dogs—Dog-travelling—The Cabri Sack
—A cold Day—Victoria— Sent to Rome”-—Reach Fort Pitt—The
blind Cree—A Feast or a Famine—Death of Pe-na-koam the

195

210

230

291

Blackfoot . : . : : - : : : : - 293

CHAPTER XX.

The Buffalo—His Limits and favourite Grounds—Modes of Huntmag
—A Fight—His inevitable End—I become a Medicine-man—Great
Cold—Carlton—Family Responsibilities . : : : . .

315

CONTENTS.

CHAPTER XXI.
PAGE
The Great Sub-Arctie Forest—The ~ Forks ” of the Saskatchewan—
An Iroquois—Fort-i-la-Corne—News from the outside World—
All haste for Home—The solitary Wigwam—Joe Miller’s Death . 329

CHAPTER XXIL.

Cumberland—We bury poor Joe—A good Train of Dogs—The great
Marsh—Mutiny—Chicag the Sturgeon-fisher—A Night with a
Medicine-man—Lakes Winnipegoosis and Manitoba—Muskeymote
eats his Boots—We reach the Settlement—From the Saskatchewan
tothe Seine . : - - : : . : - . - 338

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.

PAGE
Map ofthe Great Lone Land =. ww ww. Frontispiece
Working up the Winnipez . . : . : . - . 147
I waved tothe leading Canoe . . . - - . - - 168
Across the Plains in November . . . . . . - 215

The Rocky Mountains at the Sources of the Saskatchewan . - 274
Leaving a cosy Camp at dawn . - - 298
The ** Forks” of the Saskatchewan . . . - 329

THE

GREAT LONE LAND.

CHAPTER I.

Peace—Rusovrs oF War—Retrexcrment—A Crovup mw THE
rar West—A Distant SerrLeMeNt—Persovat—Tue PrurcuasE
System—A_ CaBLe-GRaM—AWAay TO THE WEST.

Ir was a period of universal peace over the wide world.
There was not a shadow of war in the North, the South,
the East, or the West. There was not even a Bashote in
South Africa, a Beloochee in Scinde, a Bhoottea, 2 Burmese,
or any other of the many “eses” or “eas” forming the great
colonial empire of Britain who seemed capable of kicking
up the semblance of a row. Newspapers had never been
so dull; illustrated journals had to content themselves
with pictorial representations of prize pigs, foundation
stones, and provincial civic magnates. Some of the great
powers were bent upon disarming; several influential per-
sons of both sexes had decided, at a meeting held for the
suppression of vice, to abolish standing armies. But, to
be more precise as to the date of this epoch, it will be
necessary to state that the time was the close of the year
B

“nf
‘“¢

2 TIE GREAT LONE LAND.

1869, just twenty-two months ago. Looking back at this
most piping period of peace from the stand-point of to-
day, it is not at all improbable that even at that tranquil
moment a great power, now very much greater, had a
firm hold of certain wires carefully concealed; the dexterous
pulling of which would cause 100,000,000 of men to rush
at each other’s throats: nor is this supposition rendered
the more unlikely because of the utterance of the most
religious sentiments on the part of the great power in
question, and because of the well-known Christianity and
orthodoxy of its ruler. But this was not the only power
that possessed a deeper insight into the future than did its
neighbours. It is hardly to be gainsaid that there was,
about that period, another great power popularly supposed
to dwell amidst darkness—a power which is said also to
possess the faculty of making Scriptural quotations to his
own advantage. It is not at all unlikely that amidst this
scene of universal quietude he too was watching certain
little snow-wrapt hamlets, scenes of straw-yard and deep
thatched byre in which cattle munched their winter pro-
vender—watching them with the perspective scent of death
and destruction in his nostrils; gloating over them with
the knowledge of what was to be their fate before another
snow time had come round. It could not be supposed
that amidst such an era of tranquillity the army of
England should have been allowed to remain in a very
formidable position. When other powers were talking of
disarming, was it not necessary that Great Britain should
actually disarm? of course there was a slight difference
existing between the respective cases, inasmuch as Great
Britain had never armed; but that distinction was not
taken into account, or was not deemed of sufficient im-
portance to be noticed, except by a few of the opposition

THE GREAT LONE LAND. 3

journals; and is not every one aware that when a country
is governed on the principle of parties, the party which is
ealled the opposition must be in the wrong? So it was
decreed about this time that the fighting force of the
British nation should be reduced. It was useless to speak
of the chances of war, said the British tax-payer, speak-
ing through the mouths of innumerable members of the
British Legislature. Had not the late Prince Consort
and the late Mr. Cobden come to the same conclusion
from the widely different pomts of great exhibitions and
free trade, that war could never be? And if, in the face of
great exhibitions and universal free trade—even if war did
become possible, had we not ambassadors, and legations,
and consulates all over the world; had we not military
attachés at every great court of Europe; and would we
not know all about it long before it commenced? No, no,
said the tax-payer, speaking through the same medium as
before, reduce the army, put the ships of war out of com~
mission, take your largest and most powerful transport
steamships, fill them full with your best and most ex~-
perienced skilled military and naval artisans and labourers,
send them across the Atlantic to forge guns, anchors, and
material of war in the navy-yards of Norfolk and the
arsenals of Springfield and Rock Island; and let us hear
no more of war or its alarms. It is true, there were some
persons who thought otherwise upon this subject, but
many of them were men whose views had become warped
and deranged in such out-of-the-way places as Southern
Russia, Eastern China, Central Hindoostan, Southern
Africa, and Northern America—military men, who, in fact,
could not be expected to understand questions of grave
political economy, astute matters of place and party, upon
which the very existence of the parliamentary system
B2

4 THE GREAT LONE AND.

depended; and who, from the ignorance of these nice
distinctions of liberal-conservative and conservative-liberal,
had imagined that the strength and power of the empire
was not of secondary importance to the strength and power
of a party. But the year 1869 did not pass altogether
into the bygone without giving a faint echo of disturbance
jn one far-away region of the earth. It is true, that not
the smallest breathing of that strife which was to make
the succeeding year crimson through the centuries had
yet sounded on the continent of Europe. No; all was
as quiet there as befits the mighty hush which precedes
colossal conflicts. But far away in the very farthest West,
so far that not one man in fifty could tell its whereabouts,
up somewhere between the Rocky Mountains, Hudson
Bay, and Lake Supcrior,.along a river called the Red
River of the North, a people, of whom nobody could tell
who or what they were, had risen in insurrection. Well-
informed persons said these insurgents were only Indians,
others, who had relations in America, averred that they
were Scotchmen, and one journal, well-known for its
clearness upon all subjects connected with the American
Continent, asserted that they were Frenchmen. Amongst
so much conflicting testimony, it was only natural that
the average Englishman should possess no very decided
opinions upon the matter; in fact, it came to pass that
the average Englishman, having heard that somebody
was rebelling against him somewhere or other, looked to
his atlas and his journal for information on the subject,
and having failed in obtaining any from either source,
naturally concluded that the whole thing was something
which no fellow could be expected to understand. As,
however, they who follow the writer of these pages
through such vicissitudes as he may encounter will have

THE GREAT LONE LAND. a 5

to live awhile amongst these people of the Red River of
the North, it will be necessary to examine this little cloud
of insurrection which the last days of 1869 pushed above
the political horizon.

About the time when Napoleon was carrying half a mil-
lion of men through the snows of Russia, a Scotch noble-
man of somewhat eccentric habits conceived the idea of
planting a colony of his countrymen in the very heart of
the vast continent of North America. It was by no means
an original idea that entered into the brain of Lord Selkirk ;
other British lords had tried in earlier centuries the same
experiment; and they, in turn, were only the imitators of
those great Spanish nobles who, in the sixteenth century, had
planted on the coast of the Carolinas and along the Gulf of
Mexico the first germs of colonization in the New World.
But in one respect Lord Selkirk’s experiment was wholly
different from those that had preceded it. The earlier ad-
venturers had sought the coast-line of the Atlantic upon
which to fix their infant colonies. He boldly penetrated
into the very centre of the continent and reached a fertile
spot which to this day is most difficult of access. But at
that time what an oasis in the vast wilderness of America
was this Red River of the North! For 1400 miles between
it and the Atlantic lay the solitudes that now teem with the
cities of Minnesota, Wisconsin, Illinois, Indiana, and Michi-
gan. Indeed, so distant appeared the nearest outpost of
civilization towards the Atlantic that all means of commu-
nication in that direction was utterly unthought of. The
settlers had entered into the new land by the ice-locked bay
of Hudson, and all communication with the outside world
should be maintained through the same outlet. No easy
task! 300 miles of lake and 400 miles of river, wildly
foaming over rocky ledges in its descent of 700 feet,

6 THE GREAT LONE LAND.

lay between them and the ocean, and then only to reach
the stormy waters of the great Bay of Hudson, whose ice-
bound outlet to the Atlantic is fast locked save during two
short months of latest summer. No wonder that the in-
fant colony had hard times in store for it—hard times, if
left to fight its way against winter rigour and summer
inundation, but doubly hard when the hand of a powerful
enemy was raised to crush it in the first year of its existence.
Of this more before we part. Enough for us now to know
that the little colony, in spite of opposition, increased and.
multiplied ; people lived in it, were married in it, and died
in it, undisturbed by the busy rush of the outside world,
until, in the last months of 1869, just fifty-seven years after
its formation, it rose in insurrection.

And now, my reader, gentle or cruel, whichsoever you may
be, the positions we have hitherto occupied in these few
preliminary pages must undergo some slight variation.
You, if you be gentle, will I trust remain so until the end;
if you be eruel, you will perhaps relent; but for me, it will
be necessary to come forth in the full glory of the indivi-
dual “1,” and to retain it until we part.

It was about the end of the year 1869 that I became
conscious of having experienced a decided check in life.
One day I received from a distinguished military func-
tionary an intimation to the effect that a company in Her
Majesty’s service would be at my disposal, provided I could
produce the sum of 11002. Some dozen years previous to
the date of this letter I entered the British army, and by
the slow process of existence had reached a position among
the subalterns of the regiment technically known as first for
purchase ; but now, when the moment arrived to turn that
position to account, I found that neither the 11002. of regu-
lation amount nor the 400/. of over-regulation items (terms

THE GREAT LONE LAND. 7

very familiar now, but soon, I trust, to be for ever obso-
lete) were forthcoming, and so it came about that younger
hands began to pass me in the race of life. What was
to be done? What course lay open? Serve on; let the
dull routine of barrack-life grow duller; go from Canada
to the Cape, from the Cape to the Mauritius, from Mauritius
to Madras, from Madras goodness knows where, and trust
to delirium tremens, yellow fever, or cholera morbus for
promotion and advancement; or, on the other hand, cut the
service, become in the lapse of time governor of a peniten-
tiary, secretary to a London club, or adjutant of militia.
And yet—here came the rub—when every fibre of one’s
existence beat in unison with the true spirit of military ad-
venture, when the old feeling which in boyhood had made
the study of history a delightful pastime, in late years had
grown into a fixed unalterable longing for active service,
when the whole current of thought ran in the direction of
adventure—no matter in what climate, or under what cir-
cumstances—it was hard beyond the measure of words to
sever in an instant the link that bound one to a life where
such aspirations were still possible of fulfilment ; to separate
one’s destiny for ever from that noble profession of arms; to
become an outsider, to admit that the twelve best years of
life had been a useless dream, and to bury oneself far away
in some Western wilderness out of the reach or sight of red
coat or sound of bugle—sights and sounds which old asso-
ciations would have made unbearable. Surely it could not
be done; and so, looking abroad into the future, it was
difficult to trace a path which could turn the flank of this
formidable barrier flung thus suddenly into the highway of
life.

Thus it was that one, at least, in Great Britain watched
with anxious gaze this small speck of revolt rising so far

8 THE GREAT LONE LAND.

away in the vast wilderness of the North-West ; and when,
about the beginning of the month of April, 1570, news came
of the projected despatch of an armed force from Canada
against the malcontents of Red River, there was one who
beheld in the approaching expedition the chance of a solu-
tion to the difficulties which had beset him in his career.
That one was myself.

There was little time to be lost, for already, the cable
said, the arrangements were in a forward state; the staff of
the little force had been organized, the rough outline of the
expedition had been sketched, and with the opening of
navigation on the northern lakes the first move would be
commenced. Going one morning to the nearest telegraph
station, I sent the following message under the Atlantic to
America :— To , Winnipeg Expedition. Please
remember me.” ‘When words cost at the rate of four shil-
lings each, conversation and correspondence become of ne-
cessity limited. In the present instance I was only allowed
the use of ten words to convey address, signature, and
substance, and the five words of my message were framed
both with a view to economy and politeness, as well as in a
manner which by calling for no direct answer still left un-
decided the great question of success. Having despatched
my message under the ocean, I determined to seek the
Horse Guards in a final effort to procure unattached pro-
motion in the army. It is almost unnecessary to remark
that this attempt failed ; and as I issued from the audience
in which I had been informed of the utter hopelessness of
my request, I had at least the satisfaction of having reduced
my chances of fortune to the narrow limits of a single
throw. Pausing atthe gate of the Horse Guards I reviewed
in a moment the whole situation ; whatever was to be the
result there was no time for delay, and so, hailing a hansom,

ITE GREAT LONE LAND. 9

I told the cabby to drive to the office of the Cunard Steam-
ship Company, Old Broad Street, City.

« What steamer sails on Wednesday for America?”

“The ‘Samaria’ for Boston, the ‘Marathon’ for New
York.”

“The ‘Samaria’ broke her shaft, didn’t she, last voyage,
and was a missing ship for a month??? I asked.

“ Yes, sir,” answered the clerk.

“Then book me a passage in her,” I replied; “she’s
not likely to play that prank twice in two voyages.”

10 THE GREAT LONE LAND.

CHAPTER II.

Tue “ Sasarra "—Across tue ATLantic-—Simemates—Tne Desrort
or tHE Deck—“Keer wer Nor’-West”—DEMOCRAT VERSUS
Repusiuican—A First Giruurrse—Bosron.

PoriticaL economists and newspaper editors for years have
dwelt upon the unfortunate fact that Ireland is not a manu-
facturing nation, and does not export largely the products
of her soil. But persons who have lived in the island, or
who have visited the ports of its northern or southern
shores, or crossed the Atlantic by any of the ocean steamers
which sail daily from the United Kingdom, must have ar-
rived at a conclusion totally at variance with these writers;
for assuredly there is no nation under the sun which manu-
factures the material called man so readily as does that
grass-covered island. Ireland is not a manufacturing
nation, says the political economist. Indeed, my good sir,
you are wholly mistaken. She is not only a manufacturing
nation, but she manufactures nations. You do not see her
broad-cloth, or her soft fabrics, or her steam-engines, but
you see the broad shoulder of her sons and the soft cheeks
of her daughters in vast states whose names you are utterly
ignorant of; and as for the exportation of her products to
foreign lands, just come with me on board this ocean steam-
ship “Samaria” and Jook at them. The good ship has run
down the channel during the night and now lies at anchor
in Queenstown harbour, waiting for mails and passengers.
The latter came quickly and thickly enough. No poor, ill-

THE GREAT LONE LAND. 11

fed, miserably dressed crowd, but fresh, and fair, and strong,
and well clad, the bone and muscle and rustic beauty of the
land; the little steam-tender that plies from the shore to the
ship is crowded at every trip, and you can scan them as they
come on board in batches of seventy or eighty. Some eyes
among the girls are red with crying, but tears dry quickly
on young cheeks, and they will be laughing before an hour
is over. “Let them go,” says the economist; “we have
too many mouths to feed in these little islands of ours;
their going will give us more room, more cattle, more
chance to keep our acres for the few; let them go.” My
friend, that is Just half the picture, and no more; we may
get a peep at the other half before you and I part.

It was about five o’clock in the afternoon of the 4th of May
when the “Samaria ” steamed slowly between the capes of
Camden and Carlisle, and rounding out into Atlantic turned
herhead towardsthe western horizon. The ocean lay unruffled
along the rocky headlands of Ireland’s southmost shore. A
long line of smoke hanging suspended between sky and sea
marked the unseen course of another steamship farther away
to the south. A hill-top, blue and lonely, rose above the
rugged coast-line, the far-off summit of some inland moun-
tain; and as evening came down over the still tranquil
ocean and the vessel clove her outward way through phos-
phorescent water, the lights along the iron coast grew
fainter in distance till there lay around only the unbroken
circle of the sea.

On Boarp.—A trip across the Atlantic is now-a-days
a very ordinary business; in fact, it is no longer a voyage
—it isa run, you may almost count its duration to within
four hours; and as for fine weather, blue skies, and calm
seas, if they come, you may be thankful for them, but
don’t expect them, and you won’t add a sense of disappoint-

12 THE GREAT LONE LAND.

ment to one of discomfort. Some experience of the Atlantic
enables me to affirm that north or south of 35° north and
south latitude there exists no such thing as pleasant sailing.

But the usual run of weather, time, and tide outside the
ship is not more alike in its characteristics than the usual
run of passenger one meets inside. There is the man who
has never been sea-sick in his life, and there is the man who
has never felt well upon board ship, but who, nevertheless,
both manage to consume about fifty meals of solid food in
ten days. There is the nautical ]andsman who tells you
that he has been eighteen times across the Atlantic and
four times round the Cape of Good Hope, and who is gene-
rally such a bore upon marine questions that it is a subject
of infinite regret that he should not be performing a fifth
voyage round that distant and interesting promontory.
Early in the voyage, owing to his superior sailing qualities,
he has been able to cultivate a close intimacy with the
captain of the ship; but this intimacy has been on the de-
cline for some days, and, as he has committed the unpar-
donable error of differing in opinion with the captain upon
a subject connected with the general direction and termina-
tion of the Gulf Stream, he begins to fall quickly in the
estimation of that potentate. Then there is the relict of
the late Major Fusby, of the Fusiliers, going to or returning
from England. Mrs. Fusby has a predilection for port-
negus and the first Burmese war, in which campaign her
late husband received a wound of such a vital description
(he died just twenty-two years later), that it has enabled
her to provide, at the expense of a grateful nation, for three °
youthfal Fusbies, who now serve their country in various
parts of the world. She does not suffer from sea-sickness,
but occasionally undergoes periods of nervous depression
which require the administration of the stimulant already

THE GREAT LONE LAND. 13

referred to. It is a singular fact that the present voyage is
strangely illustrative of remarkable events in the life of the
late Fusby; there has not been a sail or a porpoise in sight
that has not called up some reminiscence ofthe early gareer
of the major ; indeed, even the somewhat unusual appearance
of an iceberg has been turned to account as suggestive of
the intense suffering undergone by the major during the
period of his wound, owing to the seareity of the article ice
in tropical countries. Then on deck we have the inevitable
old sailor who is perpetually engaged in scraping the vestiges
of paint from your favourite seat, and who, having arrived
at the completion of his monotonous task after four day’s
incessant labour, is found on the morning of the fifth en-
gaged in smearing the paint-denuded place of rest with a
vilely glutinous compound peculiar to ship-board. He
never looks directly at you as you approach, with book and
rug, the desired spot, but you can tell by the Jeer in his eye
and the roll of the quid in his immense mouth that the old
villain knows all about the discomfort he is causing you, and
you fancy you can detect a chuckle as you turn away in a
vain quest for a quiet cosy spot. Then there is the captain
himself, that most mighty despot. What king ever wielded
suck ower, what czar or kaiser had ever such obedience
yielded to their decrees? This man, who on shore is no-
thing, is here on his deck a very pope; he is infallible.
Canute could not stay the tide, but our sea-king regulates
the sun. Charles the Fifth could not make half a dozen
clocks go in unison, but Captain Smith can make it twelve
o’clock any time he pleases ; nay, more, when the sun has
made it twelve o’clock no tongue of bell or sound of clock
can proclaim time’s decree until it has been ratified by the
fiat of the captain ; and even in his misfortunes what gran-
deur, what absence of excuse or crimination of others in the

14 THE GREAT LONE LAND.

honr of his disaster! Who has not heard of that captain
who sailed away from Liverpool one day bound for America?
He had been hard worked on shore, and it was said that
when he songht the seclusion of his own cabin he was not
unmindful of that comfort which we are told the first navi-
gator of the ocean did not disdain to use. For a little time
things went well. The Isle of Man was passed; but unfor-
tunately, on the second day out, the good ship struck the
shore of the north-cast coast of Ireland and became a total
wreck, As the weather was extremely fine, and there ap-
peared to he no reason for the disaster, the subject became
matter for investigation by the authorities connected with
the Board of Trade. During the inquiry it was deposed
that the Calf of Man had been passed at such an hour on
such a day, and the circumstance duly reported to the cap-
tain, who, it was said, was below. It was also stated that
having received the report of the passage of the Calf of Man
the captain had ordered the ship to be kept in a north-west
course until further orders. About six hours later the vessel
went ashore on the coast of Ireland. Such was the evidence
of the first officer. The captain was shortly after called and
examined,

“Tt appears, sir,” said the president of the court, “ that
the passing of the Calf of Man was duly reported to you
by the first officer. May Task,sir, what course you ordered.
to be steered upon receipt of that information ? ”

“ North-west, sir,” answered the captain ; “I said, ‘ Keep
her north-west.’ ”

“ North-west,” repeated the president ; “ a very excellent
general course for making the coast of America, but not
until you had cleared the channel and were well into the
Atlantic. Why, sir, the whole of Ireland lay between you
and America on that conrse.”

THE GREAT LONE LAND. 15

“Can’t help that, sir; can’t help that, sir,’ replied the
sea-king in a tone of half-contemptuous pity, “ that the
whole of Ireland should have been so very unreasonable as
to intrude itself in such a position.”

And yet, with all the despotism of the deck, what kindly
spirits are these old sea-captains with the freckled hard-
knuckled hands and the grim storm-seamed faces! What
honest genuine hearts are lying buttoned up beneath those
rough pea-jackets! If all despots had been of that kind
perhaps we shouldn’t have known quite as much about
Parliamentary Institutions as we do.

And now, while we have been talking thus, the “Samaria”
has been getting far out into mid Atlantic, and yet we
know not one among our fellow-passengers, although they
do not number much above a dozen: a merchant from
Maryland, a sea-captain from Maine, a young doctor from
Pennsylvania, a Massachusetts man, a Rhode Islander, a
German geologist going to inspect seams in Colorado, a
priest’s sister from Ireland going to look after-some little
property left her by her brother, a poor fellow who was
always ill, who never appeared at table, and who alluded
to the demon sea-sickness that preyed upon him as “it.”
“Tt comes on very bad at night. It prevents me touch-
ing food. It never leaves me,” he would say ; and in truth
this terrible “ it” never did leave him until the harbour of
Boston was reached, and even then, I fancy, dwelt in his
thoughts during many a day on shore.

The sea-captain from Maine was a violent democrat, the
Massachusetts man a rabid republican; and many a fierce
battle waged between them on the vexed questions of state
rights, negro suffrage, and free trade in liquor. To many
Englishmen the terms republican and democrat may seem
synonymous; but not between radical and conservative,

16 THE GREAT LONE LAND.

between outmost Whig and inmost Tory exist more opposite
extremes than between these great rival political parties of
the United States. As a drop of sea-water possesses the
properties of the entire water of the ocean, so these units of
American political controversy were microscopic representa-
tives of their respective parties. It was curious to remark
what a prominent part their religious convictions played in
the war of words. The republican was a member of the
Baptist congregation ; the democrat held opinions not very
easy of description, something of a universalist and semi-
unitarian tendency ; these opinions became frequently inter-
mixed with their political jargon, forming that curious
combination of ideas which to unaccustomed ears sounds
slightly blasphemous. I recollect a very earnest American
once saying that he considered all religious, political, social,
and historical teaching should be reduced to three subjects
—the Sermon on the Mount, the Declaration of American
Independence, and the Chicago Republican Platform of 1860.
On the present occasion the Massachusetts man was a per-
son whose nerves were as weak as his political convictions
were strong, and the democrat being equally gifted with
strong opinions, strong nerves, and a tendency towards
strong waters, was enabled, particularly after dinner, to ob-
tain an easy victory over his less powerfully gifted antago-
nist. In fact it was to the weakness of the latter’s nervous
system that we were indebted for the pleasure of his society
on board. Eight weeks before he had been ordered by his’
medical adviser to leave his wife and office in the little village
of Hyde Park to seek change and relaxation on the continent
of Europe. He was now returning to his native land filled,
he informed-us, with the gloomiest forebodings. He hada
very powerful presentiment that we were never to see the
shores of America. By what agency our destruction was to

THE GREAT LONE LAND. . 17

be accomplished he did not enlighten us, but the ship had
not well commenced her voyage before he commenced his
evil prognostications. That these were not founded upon
any prophetic knowledge of future events will be sufficiently
apparent from the fact of this book being written. Indeed,
when the mid Atlantic had been passed our Massachusetts
acquaintance began to entertain more hopeful expectations
of once more pressing his wife to his bosom, although he re-
peatedly reiterated that if that domestic event was really des-
tined to take place no persuasion on earth, medical or other-
wise, would ever induce him to place the treacherous billows
of the Atlantic between him and the person of that bosom’s
partner. It was drawing near the end of the voyage when
an event occurred which, thcagh in itself of a most trivial
nature, had for some time a disturbing effect upon our
little party. The priest’s sister, an elderly maiden lady of
placidly weak intellect, announced one morning at breakfast
that the sea-captain from Maine had on the previous day
addressed her in terms of endearment, and had, in fact, called
her his “little duck.” This announcement, which was made
generally to the table, and which was received in dead
silence by every member of the community, had by no
means a pleasurable effect upon the countenance of the
person most closely concerned. Indeed, amidst the silence
which succeeded the revelation, a half-smothered sentence,
more forcible than polite, was audible from the lips of the
democrat, in which those accustomed to the vernacular of
America could plainly distinguish “darned old fool.”
Meantime, in spite of political discussions, or amorous reve-
lations, or prophetic disaster, in spite of mid-ocean storm
and misty fog-bank, our gigantic screw, unceasing as the
whirl of life itself,.had wound its way into the waters which
wash the rugged shores of New England. To those whose
c

18 THE GREAT LONE LAND.

lives are spent in ceaseless movement over the world, who
wander from continent to continent, from island to island,
who dwell in many cities but are the citizens of no city, who
sail away and come back again, whose home is the broad
earth itself, to such as these the coming in sight of land is
no unusual occurrence, and yet the man has grown old at
his trade of wandering who can look utterly uninterested
upon the first glimpse of land rising out of the waste of
ocean : small as that glimpse may be, only a rock, a cape, a
mountain crest, it has the power of localizing an idea, the
very vastness of which prevents its realization on shore.
From the deck of an outward-bound vessel one sees rising,
faint and blue, a rocky headland or a mountain summit—one
does not ask if the mountain be of Maine, or of Mexico, or
the Cape be St. Ann’s or Hatteras, one only sees America.
Behind that strip of blue coast lies a world, and that world
the new one. Far away inland lie scattered many land-
scapes glorious with mountain, lake, river, and forest, all
unseen, 211 unknown to the wanderer who for the first time
seeks the American shore ; yet instinctively their presence
is felt in that faint outline of sea-lapped coast which lifts
itself above the ocean ; and even if in after-time it becomes
the lot of the wanderer, as it became my lot, to look again
upon these mountain summits, these immense inland seas,
these mighty rivers whose waters scek their mother ocean
through 3000 miles of meadow, in none of these glorious
parts, vast though they be, will the sense of the still vaster
whole be realized as strongly as in that first glimpse of land
showing dimly over the western horizon of the Atlantic.
The sunset of a very beautiful evening in May was
making bright the shores of Massachusetts as the
“ Samaria,” under her fullest head of steam, ran up the
entrance to Plymouth Sound. To save daylight into port

THE GREAT LONE LAND. 19

was an ohject of moment to the Captain, for the approach
to Boston harbour is as intricate as shoal, sunken rock, and
fort-crowned island can make it. If ever that much-
talked-of conflict between the two great branches of the
Anglo-Saxon race is destized to quit the realms of fancy
for those of fact, Boston, st least, will rest as safe from
the destructive engines of British iron-clads as the city of
Omaha on the Missouri River. It was only natural that
the Massachusetts man should have been in a fever of
excitement at finding himself once more within sight of
home; and for once human nature exhibited the unusual
spectacle of rejoicing over the falsity of its own predictions.
As every revolution of the screw brought out some new
feature into prominence, he skipped gleefully about; and,
recognizing in my person the stranger element in the
assembly, he took particular pains to point out the lions
of the landseape. “There, sir, is Fort Warren, where we
kept our rebel prisoners during the war. In a few minutes
more, sir, we will be in sight of Bunker’s Hill ;”” and then,
in a frenzy of excitement, he skipped away to some post of
vantage upon the forecastle.

Night had come down over the harbour, and Boston had
lighted all her lamps, before the “ Samaria,” swinging
round in the fast-running tide, Jay, with quict screw and
smokeless funnel, alongside the wharf of New England’s
oldest city. ;

“Real mean of that darned Baptist pointing you out
Bunker’s Hill,” said the sea-captain from Maine; “just
like the ill-mannered republican euss!’? It was useless to
tell him that I had felt really obliged for the information
given me by his political opponent. “Never mind,” he
said, “ to-morrow I'll show you how these moral Bostonians
break their darned liquor law in every hotel in their city.”

c 2

20 NITE GREAT LONE LAND.

Boston has a clean, English look about it, pecu-
jiar to it alone of all the cities in the United States,
Its streets, running in curious curves, as though they had
not the least idea where they were going, are full of prettily-
dressed pretty girls, who look as though they had a very
fair idea of where they were going to. Atlantic fogs and
French fashions have combined to make Boston belles pink,
pretty, and piquante; while the western states, by drawing
fully balf their male population from New England, make
the preponderance of the female element apparent at a
glance. The ladies, thus Jeft at home, have not been
idle: their colleges, their clubs, their reading-classes are
numerous; like the man in “ Hudibras,”—

“Tis known they can speak
Greek as naturally as pigs squeak;”

and it is probable that no city in the world can boast so
high a standard of female education as Boston: nevertheless,
it must be regietted that this standard of mental excellence
attributable to the ladies of Boston should not have been
found capable of association with the duties of domestie
life. Without going deeper into topics which are better
understood in America than in England, and which have
undergone most eloquent elucidation at the hands of Mr.
Hepworth Dixon, but which are nevertheless slightly
nauseating, it may safely be observed, that the inculea-
tion at ladies’ colleges of. that somewhat rude but forcible
home truth, enunciated by the first Napoleon in reply
to the most illustrious Frenchwoman of her day, when
questioned upon the subject of female excellence, should
not be forgotten.

There exists a very generally received idea that strangers
are more likely to notice and complain of the short-comings

WUE GREAT LONE LAND. Q3

of a social habit or system than are residents who have
grown old under that infliction ; hut I cannot help thinking
that there exists a considerable amount of error in this
opinion. A stranger will frequently submit to extortion,
to insolence, or to inconvenience, because, being a stranger,
he believes that extortion, insolence, and inconvenience are
the habitual characteristics of the new place in which he

finds himself: they do not strike him as things to be

objected to, or even wondered at; they are simply to be
submitted to and endured. If he were at home, he would
die sooner than yield that extra half-dollar; he would leave
the house at once in which he was told to get up at an
unearthly hour in the morning; but, being in another
country, he submits, without even a thought of resistance.
In no other way can we account for the strange silence on
the part of English writers upon the tyrannical disposition
of American social life. A nation everlastingly boasting
itself the freest on the earth submits unhesitatingly to
more social tyranny than any people in the world. In the
United States one is marshalled to every event of the day.
Whether you like it or not, you must get up, breakfast,
dine, sup, and go to bed at fixed hours. Attached upon
the inside of your bedroom-door is a printed document
which informs you of all the things you are not to do in
the hotel—a list in which, like Mr. J. S. Mill’s definition
of Christian doctrine, the shall-nots predominate over the
shalls. In the event of your disobeying any of the
numerous mandates set forth in this document—such as
not getting up very early—you will not be sent to the
penitentiary or put in the pillory, for that process of
punishment would imply a necessity for trouble and exer-

tion on the part of the richly-apparelled gentleman who.

does you the honour of receiving your petitions and grossly

22, THE GREAT LUNE LAND.

overcharging you at the office—no, you have simply to
go without food until dinner-time, or to go to bed by the
light of a jet of gas for which you will be charged an
exorbitant price in your bill. As in the days of Roman
despotism we know that the slaves were occasionally
permitted to indulge in the grossest excesses, so, under
the rigorous system of the hotel-keeper, the guest is
allowed to expeetorate profusely over every thing; over
the marble with which the hall is paved, over the Brussels
carpet which covers the drawing-room, over the bed-room,
and over the lobby. Expectoration is upparently the one
saving clause which American liberty demands as the price
of its submission to the prevailing tyranny of the hotel.
Do not imagine—you, who have never yet tasted the sweets
of a transatlantic transaction —that this tyranny is confined
to the hotel: every person to whom you pay moncy in the
ordinary travelling ivansactions of life—your omnibus-man,
your railway-conductor, your steamboat-clerk—takes your
money, it is true, but takes it in a manner which tells you
plainly enough that he is conferring a very great favour by
so doing. He is in all probability realizing a profit of from
three to four hundred per cent. on whatever the transaction
may be; but, all the same, although yon are fully aware of
this fuet, you are nevertheless almost overwhelmed with the
sense of the very deep obligation which you owe to the man
who thus deigns to receive your money.

It was about ten o’clock at night when the steamer
anchored at the wharf at Boston. Not until midday on
the following day were we (the passengers) allowed to leave
the vessel. The cause of this delay arose from the fact that
the collector of customs of the port of Boston was an in-
dividual of great social importance; and as it would have
been inconvenient for him to attend at an earlier hour for

THE GREAT LONE LAND. 93

the purpose of being present at the examination of our
baggage, we were detained prisoners until the day was
far enough advanced to suit his convenience. From a
conversation which subsequently I had with this gentle-
man. at our hotel, I discovered that he was more obliging
in his general capacity of politician and prominent citizen
than he was in his particular duties of customs’ col-
lector. Like many other instances of the kind in the
United States, his was a case of evident unfitness for
the post he heid. A socially smaller man would have
made a much better customs official. Unfortunately for
the comfort of the public, the remuneration attached to
appointments in the postal and customs departments is fre-
quently very large, and these situations are eagerly sought
as prizes in the lottery of political life—prizes, too, which
can only be held for the short term of four years. As a
consequence, the official who holds his situation by right of
political servicé rendered to the chief of the predominant
clique or party in his state does not consider that he owes
to the public the service of his office. In theory he is a
public servant; in reality he becomes the master of the
public. This is, however, the fault of the system and not of
the individual.

24 THE GREAT LONE LANG.

CHAPTER ITI.

Bexxer—New York—NiiGara—Toroxto— Sprinc-time ty Que-
Bec—A Suswmoxs—A Stanr—Iy coop Compaxy—Srnuirrine
& Pree—An Exrepiriox-——-Poor Caxapa—Ax Oxp Grinese
aT a New Laxsp—Rivat Rovrrs—Ciayxce or Masters—Tue
Rep River Revort—Tue Harr-erreevs—Earty Setrirrs
—Buxewuse—* Eaters oF Pemuicay "—M. Louts Riuet—Tus
Mcrver or Scort.

Wuen a city or a nation his but one military memory,
it clings to it with all the affectionate tenacity of an
old maid for her solitary poodle or parrot. Boston—
supreme over any city in the Republice—can boast of
possessing one military memento: she has the Hill of
Bunker. Bunker has long passed into the bygone; but
his hill remains, and is likely to remain for many a long
day. It is not improbable that the life, character and
habits, sayings, even the writings of Bunker—perhaps he
couldn’t write !—are familiar to many persons in the United
States; but it is in Boston and Massachusetts that Bunker
holds highest carnival. They keep in the Senate-chamber
of the Capitol, nailed over the entrance doorway in full
sight of the Speaker’s chair, a drum, a musket, and a
mitre-shaped soldier’s hat—trophies of the fight fought in
front of the low earthwork on Bunker’s Hill. Thus the
senators of Massachusetts have ever before them visible
reminders of the glory of their fathers: and I am not sure
that these former belongings of some long-waistcoated

TUE GREAT LONE LAND. 95

redcoat are not as valuable incentives to correct legislation
as that historic “ bauble’ of our own constitution.

Meantime we must away. Boston and New York have
had their stories told frequently enough—and, in reality,
there is not much to tell about them. The world dees not
contain a more uninteresting accumulation of men and
houses than the great city of New York: it is a place
wherein the stranger feels inexplicably lonely. The
traveller has no mental property in this city whose cnor-
mous growth of life has struck scant roots into the great
heart of the past.

Our course, however, lies west. We will trace the onward.
stream “of empire in many portions of its way; we will
reach its limits, and pass beyond it into the lone spaces
which yet silently await its coming; and farther still,
where the solitude knows not of its approach and the
Indian still reigns in savage supremacy.

Nuacara.—They have all had their say about Niagara.
From Hennipin to Dike, travellers have written much
about this famous cataract, and yet, put all together, they
have not said much about it ; description depends so much
on comparison, and comparison necessitates a something
‘like. If there existed another Niagara on the earth,
travellers might compare this one to that one; but as
there does not exist a second Niagara, they are generally
hard up for a comparison.. In the matter of roar, however,
comparisons are still open. There is so much noise in the
world that analysis of noise becomes easy. One man hears
in it the sound of the Battle of the Nile—a statement not
likely to be challenged, as the survivors of that celebrated
naval action are not numerous, the only one we ever had
the pleasure of meeting having been stone-deaf. Another
writer compares the roar to the sound of a vast mill; and

26 THE GREAT LONE LAND.

this similitude, more flowery than poetical, is perhaps as
good as that of the one who was in Aboukir Bay. To leave
out Niagara when you can possibly bring it in would be as
much aguinst the stock-book of travel as to omit the duel,
the stecple-chase, er the escape from the mad bull in a
thirty-one-and-sixpenny fashionable novel. What the pyra-
mids are to Egypt—what Vesuvius is to Naples—what the
field of Waterloo has been for fifty years to Brussels, so
is Niagara to the entire continent of North America.

It was early in the month of September, three years —
prior to the time I now write of, when I first visited this
famous spot. The Niagara season was at its height: the
monster hotels were ringing with song, music, and dance ;
tourists were doing the falls, and éouts were doing the
tourists. Newly-married couples were conducting them-
selves in that demonstrative manner characteristic of such
people in the New World. Buffalo girls had apparently
responded freely to the invitation contained in their
favourite nigger melody. Venders of Indian bead-work ;
itinerant philosophers; camera-obscura men; imitation
squaws ; free and enlightened negroes; guides to go under
the cataract, who should have been sent over it; spiritual-
ists, phrenologists, and nigger minstrels had made the place
theirown. Shoddy and petroleum were having “a high old
time of it,’ spending the dollar as though that “ almighty
article had become the thin end of nothing whittled fine :”
altogether, Niagara was 2 place to be instinctively shunned.

Just four months after this time the month of January
was drawing to aclose. King Frost, holding dominion over
Niagara, had worked strange wonders with the scene.
Folly and ruffianism had been frozen up, shoddy and
petroleum had betaken themselves to other haunts, the
bride strongly demonstrative or weakly reciprocal had

THE GREAT LONE LAND. 37

vanished, the monster hotels were silent and deserted, the
free and enlightened negro had gone back to Buffalo, and
the girls of that thriving city no longer danced, as of yore,
“under de light of de moon.” Well, Niagara was worth
seeing then—and the less we say about it, perhaps, the
better. “Pat,” said an American to a staring Irishman
lately landed, “did you ever see such a fall as that in the
old country?” “ Begarra! Iniverdid; but look here now,
why wouldn’t it fall? what’s to hinder it from filling?”

When I reached the city of Toronto, capital of the pro-
vince of Ontario, I found that the Red River Expeditionary
Force had already been mustered, previous to its start for
the North-West. Making my way to the quarters of the
commander of the Expedition, I was greeted every now
and again with a “ You should have been here last week ;
every soul wants to get on the Expedition, and you hav’n’t
achanee. The whole thing is complete; we start to-mor-
row.” Thus I encountered those few friends who on such
oceasions are as certain to offer their pithy condolences as
your neighbour at the dinner-table when you are late is
sure to tell you that the soup and fish were delicious. At last
I met the commander himself.

“My good fellow, there’s not a vacant berth for you,” he
said; “ I got your telegram, but the whole army in Canada
wanted to get on the Expedition.”

«J think, sir, there is one berth still vacant,” I answered.

“ What is it?”

“ You will want to know what they are doing in Minne-
sota and along the flank of your march, and you have no
one to tell you,” I said.

* You are right; we do want a man out there. Look
now, start for Montreal by first train to-morrow; by to-
night’s mail I will write to the general, recommending your

28 THE GREAT LONE LAND.

appointment. If you see him as soon as possible, it may
yet be all right.”

I thanked him, said “ Good-bye,” and in little more than
twenty-four hours later found myself in Montreal, the com-
mercial capital of Canada.

“Let me see,” said the general next morning, when I
presented myself before him, “you sent a cable message
from the South of Ireland last month, didn’t you? and you
now want to get out to the West? Well, we will require a
man there, but the thing doesn’t rest with me; it will have
to be referred to Ottawa; and meantime you can remain here,
or with your regiment, pending the receipt of an answer.”

So I went back to my regiment to wait.

Spring breaks late over the province of Quebec—that
portion of America known to our fathers as Lower
Canada, and of old to the subjects of the Grand Monarque
as the kingdom of New France. But when the young trees
begin to open their leafy lids after the long sleep of winter,
they do it quickly. The snow is not all gone before the
maple-trees are all green—the maple, that most beautiful
of trees! Well has Canada made the symbol of her new
nationality that tree whose green gives the spring its
earliest freshness, whose autumn dying tints are richer
than the clouds of sunset, whose life-stream is sweeter than
honey, and whose branches are drowsy through the long
summer with the scent and the hum of bee and flower!
Still the long line of the Canadas admits of a varied spring.
When the trees are green at Lake St. Clair, they are .
scarcely budding at Kingston, they are leafless at Mon-
treal, and Quebec is white with snow. Even ‘between
Montreal and Quebec, a short night’s steaming, there exists
a difference of ten days in the opening of the summer. But
Jate as comes the summer to Quebec, it comes in its love-

THE GREAT LONE LAND. 29

liest and most enticing form, as though it wished to atone
for its long delay in banishing from such a Jandscape the
eold tyranny of winter. And with what loveliness does the
whole face of plain, river, Jake, and mountain turn from the
iron clasp of icy winter to kiss the balmy lips of returning
summer, and to welcome his bridal gifts of sun and shower!
The trees open their leafy lids to look at him—the brooks
and streamlets break forth into songs of gladness—“ the
birch-tree,” as the old Saxon said, “ becomes beautiful in its
branches, and rustles sweetly in its leafy summit, moved to
and fro by the breath of heaven ”—the lakes uncover their
sweet faces, and their mimic shores steal down in quiet
evenings to bathe themselves in the transparent waters—
far into the depths of the great forest speeds the glad
message of returning glory, and graceful fern, and soft
velvet moss, and white wax-like lily peep forth to cover
rock and fallen tree and wreck of last year’s autumn in one
great sea of foliage. There are many landscapes which can
never be painted, photographed, or described, but which
the mind carries away instinctively to look at again and
again in after-time—these are the celebrated views of the
world, and they are not easy to find. From the Queen’s
rampart, on the citadel of Quebec, the eye sweeps over a
greater diversity of landscape than is probably to be found
in any one spot in the universe. Blue mountain, far-
stretching river, foaming caseade, the white sails of ocean
ships, the black trunks of many-sized guns, the pointed
roofs, the white village nestling amidst its fields of green, the
great islein mid-channel, the many shades of colour from deep
blue pine-wood to yellowing corn-field—in what other spot
on the earth’s broad bosom lie grouped together in a single
glance so many of these “ things of beauty ” which the eye
loves to feast on and to place in memory as joys for ever ?

30 THE GREAT LONE LAND.

I had been domiciled m Quebce for about a week, when
there appeared one morning in General Orders a para-
eraph commanding my presence in Montreal to receive
instructions from the military authorities relative to my
further destination. It was the long-looked-for order, and
fortune, after many frowns, seemed at length about to smile
upon me. It was on the evening of the Sth June, exactly
two months after the despatch of my cable message from
the South of Ireland, that I turned my face to the West
and commenced a long journey towards the setting sun.
When the broad curves of the majestic river had shut ont
the rugged outline of the citadel, and the east was growing
coldly dim while the west still glowed with the fires of
sunset, I could not help feeling a thrill of exultant thought
at the prospect before me. I little knew then the limits of
my wanderings—I little thought that for many and many
a day my track would lie with almost undeviating precision
towards the settmmg sun, that summer would merge itself
into autumn, and autumn darken into winter, and that still:
the nightly bivouae would be made a little nearer to that
west whose golden gleam was suffusing sky and water.

But though all this was of course unknown, enough was
still visible in the foreground of the future to make even
the swift-moving paddles seem laggards as they beat to
foam the long reaches of the darkening Cataraqui. “ We
must leave matters to yourself, I think,” said the General,
when I saw him for the last time in Montreal, “ you will
be best judge of how to get on when you know and see the
ground. I will not ask you to visit Fort Garry, but if you
find it feasible, it would be well if you could drop down the
Red River and join Wolseley before he gets to the place.
You know what I want, but how to do it, I will leave alto-
gether to yourself. For the rest, you can draw on us for any

THE GREAT LONE LAND. ol

money you require. Take care of those northern fellows.
Good-bye, and. success.”

This was on the 12th June, and on the morning of the
13th I started by the Grand Trunk Railway of Canada for
the West. On that morning the Grand Trunk Railway of
Canada was in a high state of excitement. It was about to
attempt, for the first time, the despatch of a Lightning
Express for Toronto ; and it was to carry from Montreal, on
his way to Quebec, one of the Royal Princes of England,
whose sojourn in the Canadian capita] was drawing to a close.
The Lightning Express was not attended with the glowing
success predicted for it by its originators. At some thirty
or forty miles from Montreal it came heavily to grief,
owing to some misfortune having attended the progress of
a preceding train over the rough uneven track. <A delay of
two hours having supervened, the Lightning Express got
into motion again, and jolted along with tolerable celerity
to Kingston. When darkness set in it worked itself up to
a high pitch of fury, and rushed along the low shores of
Lake Ontario with a velocity which promised disaster.
The car in which I travelled was one belonging to the
director of the Northern Railroad of Canada, Mr. Cumber-
land, and we had in it a minister of fisheries, one of edu-
cation, a governor of a province, a speaker of a house of
commons, and a colonel of a distinguished rifle regiment.
Being the last car of the train, the vibration caused by the
unusual rate of speed over the very rough rails was ex-
cessive ; it was, however, consolatory to feel that any little
unpleasantness which might occur through the fact of the
ear leaving the track would be attended with some sense of
alleviation. The rook is said to have thought he was
paying dear for good company when he was put into the
pigeon pie, but it by no means follows that a leap from an

32 TE GREAT LONE LAND.

embankment, or an upset into a river, would be as disas-
trous as is usually supposed, if taken in the society of such
pillars of the state as those I have already mentioned.
Whether a speaker of a house of commons and a governor
of a large province, to say nothing of a minister of fisheries,
would tend in reality to mitigate the unpleasantness of
being “ telescoped through colliding,” I cannot decide, for
we reached Toronto without accident, at midnight, and I
saw no more of my distinguished fellow-travellers.

I remained long enough in the city of Toronto to pro-
vide myself with a wardrobe suitable to the countries I was
about to seek. In one of the principal commercial streets
of the flourishing capital of Ontario I found a small
tailoring establishment, at the door of which stood an
excellent representation of a colonial. The garments be-
longing to this figure appeared to have been originally”
designed from the world-famous pattern of the American
flag, presenting above a combination of stars, and below
having a tendency to stripes. The general groundwork of
the whole rig appeared to be shoddy of an inferior descrip-
tion, and a small card attached to the figure mtimated that
the entire fit-out was procurable at the very reasonable sum
of ten dollars. It was impossible to resist the fascination
of this attire. While the bargain was being transacted
the tailor looked askance at the garments worn by his cus-
tomer, which, having only a few months before emanated
from the establishment of a well-known London cutter,
presented a considerable contrast to the new investment ;
he even ventured upon some remarks which evidently had
for their object the elucidation of the enigma, but a word
that such clothes as those worr by me were utterly un-
suited to the bush repelled all further questionmg—indeed,
so pleased did the voor fellow appear’in a pecuniary point

TUE GREAT LUNE LAND. 33

of view, that he insisted upon presenting me gratis with a
neck-tie of green and yellow, fully in keeping with the
other articles composing the costume. And now, while I
am thus arranging these little preliminary matters so essen-
tial to the work I was about to engage in, let us examine
for a moment the oljects aud scope of that work, and settle
the limits and extent of the first portion of my journey, and
sketch the route of the Expedition. It will be recollected
that the Expedition destined for the Red River of the North
had started some time before for its true base of operations,
namely Fort Wilham, on the north-west shore of Lake
Superior. The distance intervening between Toronto and
Thunder Bay is abont GUU miles, 140 being by railroad
conveyance and 500 by water. The island-studded ex-
panse of Lake Huron, known as Georgian Bay, receives at
the northern extremity the waters of the great Lake
Superior, but a difference of level amounting to upwards of
thirty feet between the broad bosoms of these two vast
expanses of fresh water has rendered necessary the con-_
struction of a canal of considerable magnitude. This canal
is situated upon American territory—a fact which gives
our friendiy cousins the exclusive possession of the great
northern basin, and which enabled them at the very outset
of the Red River affair to cause annoyance and delay to the
Canadian Expedition. Poor Canada! when one looks at you
along the immense length of yout noble river-boundary, how
vividly become apparent the evils under which your youth
has grown to manhood! Looked at from home by every
succeeding colonial minister through the particular whig, or
tory spectacles of his party, subject to violent and radival
alterations of poliey becanse of some party vote in a Legis-
lative Assembly 3000 miles from your nearest coast-line,
your own politicians, for years, too timid to grasp the limits
D

34 TIE GREAT LONE LAND.

of your possible future, parties every where in your pro-
vinces, and of every kind, exeept a national party; no
breadth, no depth, no earnest striving to make you great
amongst the nations, each one for himself and no one for
the country; men fighting for a sect, for a provinee, for a
nationality, but no one for the nation; and all this while,
close alongside, your great rival grew with giant’s growth,
Jooking far into the future before him, eutting his cloth
with perspective ideas of what his limbs would attain to
in after-time, digging his canals and grading his rail-
roads, with one eye on the Atlantic and the other on the
Pacific, spreading himself, monopolizing, annexing, out-
maneuvring and flanking those colonial bodies who sat
in. solemn state in Downing Street and wrote windy pro-
clamations and despatches anent boundary-lines, of which
they knew next to nothing. Macaulay laughs at poor
Newcastle for his childish delight in finding out that Cape
Breton was an island, but I strongly suspect there were
other and later Neweastles whose geographical knowledge
on matters American were not a whit superior. Poor
Canada! they muddled you out of Maine, and the open
harbour of Portland, out of Rouse’s Point, and the command
of Lake Champlain, out of many a fair mile far away by the
Rocky Mountains. It little matters whether it was the
treaty of 1783, or 18158, or 721, or 748, or 771, the worst of
every bargain, at all times, fell to you.

I have said that the possession of the canal at the Sault
St. Marie enabled the Americans to delay the progress of
the Red River Expedition. The embargo put upon the
Canadian vessels originated, however, in the State, and not
the Federal, authorities ; that is to say, the State of Michi-
gan issued the prohibition against the passage of the steam-
boat, and not the Cabinet of Washington. Finally,

JHE GREAT LONE LAND. 35

Washington overruled the decision of Michigan—a feat far
more feasible now than it would have been prior to the
Southern war—and the steamers were permitted to pass
through into the waters of Lake Superior. From thence to
Thunder Bay was only the steaming of four-and-twenty
hours through a lake whose vast bosom is the favourite
playmate of the wild storm-king of the North. But
although full half the total distance from Toronto to the
Red River had been traversed when the Expedition reached
Thunder Bay, not a twentieth of the time nor one hundredth
part of the labour and fatigue had been accomplished. For
a distance of 600 miles there stretched away to the north-
west a vast tract of rock-fringed lake, swamp, and forest;
lying spread in primeval savagery, an untravelled wilder-
ness; the home of the Ojibbeway, who here, entrenched
amongst Nature’s fastnesses, has long called this land his
own. Long before Wolfe had scaled the heights of Abra-
ham, before even Marlborough, and Engene, and Villers, and
Vendome, and Villeroy had commenced to fight their
giants’ fights in divers portions of the low countries, some
adventurous subjects of the Grand Monarque were forcing
their way, for the first time, along the northern shores of
Lake Superior, nor stopping there: away to the north-west
there dwelt wild tribes to be sought out by two classes of
men—by the black robe, who laboured for souls; by the
trader, who sought for skins—and a hard race had these
two widely different pioneers who sought at that early day
these remote and friendless regions, so hard that it would
almost seem as though the great powers of good and
of evil had both despatched at this same moment, on rival
errands, ambassadors to gain dominion over these distant
savages. It was acurious contest : on the one hand, showy
robes, shining beads, and maddening fire-water, on the
dz

36 THE GREAT LONE LAND.

other, the old, old story of peace and brotherhood, of Christ
and Calvary—~a contest so full of interest, so teeming
with adventure, so pregnant with the discovery of mighty
rivers and great inland seas, that one would fain ramble
away into its depths; but it must not be, or else the
journey I have to travel myself would never even begin.
Vast as is the accumulation of fresh water in Lake
Superior, the area of the country which it drains is limited
enough. Fifty miles from its northern shores the rugged
hills which form the backbone or “ divide” of the continent
raise their barren heads, and the streams carry from thence
the vast rainfall of this region into the Bay of Hudson.
Thus, when the royageur has paddled, tracked, poled, and
carried his canoe up any of the many rivers which rush like
mountain torrents into Lake Superior from the north, he
reaches the height of land between the Atlantic Ocean and
Hudson Bay. Here, at an elevation of 1500 feet above
the sea level, and of 900 above Lake Superior, he launches
his canoe upon water flowing north and west; then he has
before him hundreds of miles of quiet-lying lake, of wildly-
rushing river, of rock-broken rapid, of foaming cataract, but
through it all runs ever towards the north the ocean-
secking current. As later on we shall see many and many a
mile of this wilderness—living in it, eating in it, sleeping
in it—although reaching it from a different direction alto-
gether from the one spoken of now, I anticipate, by
alluding to it here, only as illustrating the track of the
Expedition between Lake Superior and Red River. For
myself, my route was to be altogether a different one. I
was to follow the lines of railroad which ran out into the
frontier territorics of the United States, then, leaving the
iron horse, I was to make my way to the settlements on the
west shore of Lake Superior, and from thence to work round

THE GREAT LUNE LAND. 37

to the American boundary-line at Pembina on the Red
River; so far through American territory, and with distinct
and definite instructions; after that, altogether to my own
resources, but with this summary of the general’s wishes :
“J will not ask you to visit Fort Garry, but however you
manage it, try and reach: Wolseley before he gets through
from Lake Superior, and let him know what these Red
River men are going te do.” Thus the military Expedi-
tion under Colonel Wolseley was to work its way across
from Lake Superior to Red River, through British terri-
tory; I was to pass round by the United States, and, after
ascertaining the likelihood of Fenian intervention from the
side of Minnesota and Dakota, endeavour to reach Colonel
Wolseley beyond Red River, with all tidings as to state of
parties and chances of fight. But as the reader has heard
only a very brief mention of the state of affairs in Red
River, and as he may very naturally be inclined to ask,
What is this Expedition going to do—why are these men sent
through swamp and wilderness at all? a few explanatory
words may not be out of place, serving to make matters now
and at a later period much more intelligible. I have said
in the opening chapter of this book, that the little com-
munity, or rather a portion of the little community, of Red
River Settlement had risen in insurrection, protesting
vehemently against certain arrangements made between the
Governor of Canada and the Hon. Hudson’s Bay Company
relative to the cession of territorial rights and governing
powers. After forcibly expelling the Governor of the
country appointed by Canada, from the frontier station at
Pembina, the French malcontents had proceeded to other
and. still more questionable proceedings. Assembling in
large numbers, they had fortified portions of the road
between Pembina and Fort Garry, and had taken armed

38 THE GREAT LONE LAND.

possession of the latter place, in which large stores of pro-
visions, clothing, and merchandise oi all descriptions had
been stored by the Hudson Bay Company. The oceupa-
tion of this fort, which stands close to the confluence of the
Red and Assineboine Rivers, nearly midway between the
American boundary-line and the southern shore of Lake
Winnipeg, gave the French party the virtual command of
the entire settlement. The abundant stores of clothing and
provisions were not so important as the arms and ammuni-
tion which also fell into their hands—a battery of ninc-
pound bronze guns, complete in every respect, besides
several smaller pieces of ordnance, together with large store
of Enfield rifles and old brown-bess smooth bores. The
place was, in fuet, abundantly supplied with war material of
every description. It is almost refreshing to notice the
ability, the energy, the determination which up to this
point had characterized all the movements of the originator
and mainspring of the movement, M. Louis Riel. One
hates so much to sce a thing bungled, that even resistance,
although it borders upon rebellion, becomes respectable
when it is carried out with courage, energy, and decision.
And, in truth, up to this point in the little insurrection
it is not easy to condemn the wild Metis of the North-west
—wild as the bison which he hunted, unreclaimed as the
prairies he loved so well, what knew he of State duty or
of loyalty? He knew that this land was his, and that
strong men were coming to square it into rectangular farms
and to push him farther west by the mere pressure of civi-
lization. He had heard of England and the English, but
it was in a shadowy, vague, unsubstantial sort of way,
unaecompanied by any fixed idea of government or law.
The Company—not the Hudson Bay Company, but the
Company—zepresented for him all law, all power, all govern-

THE GREAT LONE LAND. 39

ment. Protection he did not need—his quick ear, his
unerring eye, his untiring horse, his trading gun, gave him
that; but « market for his taurreau, for his buffalo robe,
for his lynx, fox, and wolf skins, for the produce of his
summer hunt and winter trade, he did need, and in the
forts of the Company he found it. His wants were few—a
capdte of blue eluth, with shining brass buttons; a cap, with
beads and tassel ; a blanket; a gun, and ball and powder; a
box of matches, and a knife, these were ail he wanted, and
at every fort, from the mountain to the banks of his well.
loved River Rouge, he found them, too. What were these
new people coming to do with him? Who could tell? If
they meant him fair, why did they not say so? why did
they not come up and tell him what they wanted, and what
they were going to do for him, and ask him what he wished
for? But, no; they either meant to outwit him, or they
held him of so smali account that it mattered little what he
thought about it; and, with all the pride of his mother’s race,
that idea of his bemg slighted hurt him even more than the
idea of his being wronged. Did not every thing point to
his disappearance under the new order of things? He had
only to look round him to verify the fact; for years before
this annexation to Canada had been carried into effect
stragglers from the east had occasionally reached Red
River. It is true that these new-comers found much to
foster the worst passions of the Anglo-Saxon settler. They
found a few thousand occupants, half-farmers, half-hunters,
living under a vast commercial monopoly, which, though it
practically rested upon a basis of the most paternal kindness
towards its subjects, was theoretically hostile to all oppo-
sition. Had these men settled quietly to the usual avoca~
tions of farming, clearing the wooded ridges, fencing the
rich expanses of prairie, covering the great swamps and

40 THE GREAT LONE LAND.

plains with herds and flocks, it is probable that all would
have gone well between the new-comers and the old pro-
prietors. Over that great western thousand miles of prairie
there wns room for all. But, no; they came to trade and
not to till, and trade on the Red River of the North was
conducted upon the most peculiar principles. There was,
in fact, but one trade, and that was the fur trade. Now,
the fur trade is, for some reason or other, a very curious
description of barter. Like some mysterious chemical
‘agency, it pervades and permeates every thing it touches.
If a man cuts off legs, cures diseases, draws tecth, sells
whiskey, cotton, wool, or any other commodity of civilized
or uncivilized life, he will be as sure to do it with a view to
furs as any doctor, dentist, or general merchant will be sure
to practise his particular calling with a view to the acqui-
sition of gold and silver. Thus, then, in the first instance
were the new-comers set in antagonism to the Company,
und finally to the inhabitants themselves. Let us try and
be just to all parties in this little oasis of the Western
wilderness. .

The early settlers in a Western country are not by any
means persons much given to the study of abstract justice,
still less to its practice ; and it is as well, perhaps, that they
should not be. They have rough work to do, and they
generally do it roughly. The very fact of their coming
out so far into the wilderness implies the other fact of their.
not being able to dwell quietly and peaceably at home.
They are, as it were, the advanced pioneers of civilization
who make smooth the way of the coming race. Obstaeles
of any kind are their peculiar detestation—if it is a tree,
ent it down ; if it is a savage, shoot it down; if it is a half.
breed, force it down. That is about their creed, and it
inust Le said they act up to their convictions.

THE GREAT LUNE LAND. 41

Now, had the country bordering on Red River been an
unpeopled wilderness, the plan carried out in effecting the
transfer of land in the North-west from the Hudson’s Bay
Company to the Crown, and from the Crown to the
Dominion of Canada, would have been an eminently wise
one; but, unfortunately for its wisdom, there were some
15,000 persons living in peaceful possession of the soil thus
transferred, and these 15,000 persons very naturally ob-
jected to have themselves and possessions signed away
without one word of consent or one note of'approval. Nay,
more than that, these straggling pioncers had on many an
occasion ‘taunted the vain half-breed with what would
happen when the irresistible march of events had thrown
the country into the arms of Canada: then civilization
would dawn upon the benighted country, the half-brecd
would seek some western region, the Company would dis-
appear, and all the institutions of New World progress
would shed prosperity over the land; prosperity, not to
the old dwellers and of the old type, but to the new-comers
and of the new crder of things. Small wonder, then, if the
little community, resenting all this threatened improvement
off the face of the earth, got their powder-horns ready, took
the covers off their trading flint-guns, and with much
gesticulation summarily interfered with several anticipatory
surveys of their farms, doubling up the sextants, bundling
the surveying parties out of their freeholds, and very
peremptorily informing Mr. Governor M‘Dougall, just
arrived from Canada, that his presence was by no means of
the least desirability to Red River or its inhabitants. The
man who, with remarkable energy and perseverance, had
worked up his fellow-citizens to this pitch of resistance,
organizing and directing the whole movement, was a young
French hali-breed numed Louis Riel—a man possessing

429 THE GREAT LONE LAND.

many of the attributes suited to the leadership of parties,
and quite certain to rise to the surface in any time of poli-
tical disturbances. It has doubtless occurred to any body
who has followed me through this brief sketch of the causes
which led to the assumption of this attitude on the part of
the French half-breeds—it has occurred to them, I say, to
ask who then was to blame for the mismanagement of the
transfer: was it the Hudson Bay Company who surren-
dered for 300,0002. their territorial rights? was it the
Imperial Government who accepted that surrender ? or was
it the Dominion Government to whom the country was in
turn retransferred by the Imperial authorities? I answer
that the blame of having bungled the whole business
belongs collectively to all the great and puissant bodies. -
Any ordinary matter-of-fact, sensible man would have
managed the whole affair in a few hours; but so many
high and potent powers had to consult together, to pen
despatches, to speechify, and to lay down the law about it,
that the whole affair became hopelessly muddled. Of
course, ignorance and carelessness were, as they always are,
at the bottom of it all. Nothing would have been easier
than to have sent a commissioner from England to Red
River, while the negotiations for transfer were pending,
who would have ascertained the feelings and wishes of
the people of the country relative to the transfer, and
would have guaranteed them the exercise of their rights
and liberties under any and every new arrangement that
might be entered into. Now, it is no excuse for any
Government to plead ignorance upon any matter per-
taining to the people it governs, or expects to govern, for
a Government has no right to be ignorant on any such
matter, and its ignorance must be its condemnation; yet
this is the plea put forward by the Dominion Government

THE GREAT LONE LAND. 43

of Canada, and yet the Dominion Government and the
Imperial Government had ample opportunity of arriving
at a correct knowledge of the state of affairs in Red River,
if they bad only taken the trouble to do so. Nay, more, it
is an undoubted fact that warning had been given to the
Dominion Government of the state of feeling amongst the
half-breeds, and the phrase, “they are only eaters of
pemmican,” so cutting to the Metis, was then first origi-
nated by a distinguished Canadian politician.

And now let us see what the “eaters of pemmican” pro-
ceeded to do after their forcible occupation of Fort Garry.
Well, it must be admitied they behaved in a very indiffe-
rent manner, going steadily from bad to worse, and much
befriended in their seditious proceedings by continued and
oft repeated bungling on the part of their opponents.
Early in the month of December, 1869, Mr. M‘Dougall
issued. two proclamations from his post at Pembina, on the
frontier: in one he declared himself Lieutenant-Governor
of the territory which Her Majesty had transferred to
Canada; and in the other he commissioned an officer of
the Canadian militia, under the high-sounding title of
“ Conservator of the Peace,” “ to attack, arrest, disarm, and
disperse armed men disturbing the public peace, and to
assault, fire upon, and break into houses in which these
armed men were to be found.” Now, of the first pro-
clamation it will be only necessary to remark, that Her
Majesty the Queen had not done any thing of the kind
imputed to her; and of the second it has probably already
occurred to the reader that the title of “Conservator of the
Peace” was singularly inappropriate to one vested with such
sanguinary and destructive powers as was the holder of this
commission, who was to “assault, fire upon, and break into
houses,and to attack, arrest, disarm, and disperse people,” and

deh THE GREAT LONE LAND.

generally to conduct himself after the manner of Attila,
Genshis Khan, the Emperor Theodore, or any other ferocious
magnate of ancient or modern times. The oflicer holding
this destructive commission thought he could do nothing
better than imitate the tactics of his French adversary,
accordingly we find him taking possession of the other
rectangular building known as the Lower Fort Garry,
situated some twenty miles north of the one in which the
French had taken post, but unfortunately, or perhaps for-
tunately, not finding within its walls the same store of
warlike material which had existed in the Fort Garry senior.

The Indians, ever ready to have a band in any fighting
which may be “knocking around,” came forward in all the
glory of paint, feathers, and pow-wow ; and to the number
of fifty were put as garrison into the place. Some hundreds
of English and Seotch half-breeds were enlisted, told off
into companies under captains improvised for the occasion,
and every thing pointed to a very pretty quarrel before
many days had run their course. But, in truth, -the
hearts of the English and Scotch settlers were not in this
business. By nature peaceably disposed, inheriting from
their Orkney and Shetland forefathers much of the frugal
habits of the Scotchmen, these people only asked to be
left in peace. So far the French party had been only fight-
ing the battle of every half-breed, whether his father had
hailed from the northern isles, the shires of England, or the
snows of Lower Canada; so, after a little time, the Scotch
and English volunteers began to meli, away, and on the 9th
of December the last warrior had disappeared. But the
effects of their futile demonstration soon became apparent
in the imereasing violence and tyranny of Riel and his
followers. The threatened attempt to upset his authority
by arraying the Scotch and English half-breeds against him

THR CREAT LONE LAND. 45,

served only to add strength to his party. The number of
armed malcontents in Fort Garry became very much
increased, clergymen of both parties, neglecting their mani-
fest functions, began to take sides in the conflict, and the
worst form of religious animosity became apparent in the
little community. Emboldened by the presence of some five
or six hundred armed followers, Riel determined to strike
a blow against the party most obnoxious to him. This was
the English-Canadian party, the pioneers of the Western
settlement already alluded to as having been previously in
antagonism with the people of Red River. Some sixty or
seventy of these men, believing in the certain advance of the
English foree upon Fort Garry, had taken up a position in
the little village of Winnipeg, less than a mile distant from the
fort, where they awaited the advance of their adherents pre-
vious to making a combined assault upon the French. But
Riel proved himself more than a match for his antagonists ,
marching quickly out of his stronghold, he surrounded the
buildings in which they were posted, and, planting a gun
in a conspicuously commanding position, summoned them
all to surrender in the shortest possible space of time.
As is usual on such occasions, and in such circumstances,
the whole party did as they were ordered, and marching
out—with or without side-arms and military honours his-
tory does not relate—were forthwith conducted into close
confinement within the walls of Fort Garry. Having by
this bold coup got possession not only of the most energetic
of his opponents, but also of many valuable American
Remington Rifles, fourteen shooters and revolvers, Mr.
Riel, with all the vanity of the Indian peeping out, began
to imagine himself a very great personage, and as very great
personages are sometimes supposed to be believers in the
idea that to take a man’s property is qnly to confiscate it,

46 THE GREAT LONE LAND.

and to take his life is merely to execute him, he too
commenced to violently sequestrate, annex, and requisition
not only divers of his prisoners, but also a considerable share
of the goods stored in warehouses of the Hudson Bay
Company, having particular regard to some hogsheads of
old port wine and very potent Jamaica rum. The pro-
verl) which has reference to a mendicant suddenly placed
in an equestrian position had notable exemplification in
the ease of the Provisional Government, and many of his
colleagues; going steadily from bad to worse, from violence
to pillage, from pillage to robbery of a very low type, much
supplemented by rum-drunkenness and dictatorial de-
bauchery, he and they finally, on the 4th of March, 1879,
disregarding some touching appeals for mercy, and with
many accessories of needless cruelty, shot to death a helpless
Canadian prisoner named Thomas Scott. This act, com-
mitted in the coldest of cold blood, bears only one name:
the red name of murder—a name which instantly and for
ever drew between Riel and his followers, and the outside
Canadian world, that impassable gulf which the murderer
in all ages digs between himself and society, and which
society attempts to bridge by the aid of the gallows. It is
necdless here to enter into details of this matter; of the
second rising which preceded it; of the dead blank which
followed it; of the heartless and disgusting cruelty which
made the prisoner’s death a foregone conclusion at his
mock trial; or of the deeds worse than butchery which
characterized the last scene. Still, before quitting the
revolting-subject, there is one point that deserves remark,
as it seems to illustrate the feeling entertained by the
leaders themselves. -
On the night of the murder the body was interred in a
very deep hole which had been dug within the walls of the

THE GREAT LONE LAND. 47

fort. Two clergymen had asked permission to inter the
remains in either of their churches, but this request
had been denied. On the annivetsary of the murder,
namely, the 4th March, 1871, other powers being then
predominant in Fort Garry, a large crowd gathered at
the spot where the murdered man had been interred, for the
purpose of exhuming the body. After digging for some
time they came to an oblong box or coffin in which the
remains had been placed, but it was empty, the interment
within the walls had been a mock ceremony, and the final
resting-place of the body lies hidden in mystery. Now
there is one thing very evident from the fact, and that is
that Riel and his immediate followers were themselves
conscious of the enormity of the deed they had committed,
for had they believed that.the taking of this man’s life was
really an execution justified upon any grounds of military
or political necessity, or a forfeit fairly paid as price for
crimes committed, then the hole inside the gateway of Fort
Garry would have held its skeleton, and the midnight
interment would not have been a senseless lie. The mur-
derer and the law both take life—it is only the murderer
who hides under the midnight shadows the body of his
victim.

48 THE GREAT LONE LAND.

CHAPTER IV.

Cntcaco—* Wiro ts §. B. D.2°—MitwacKre—Tut Great Prsiox—
Wiscoxsix—Tue Scevrixne-carn—Tue Trains Bor—Mixxesota—
Str. Paco-—I starr ror Lake Screrntor—Tue Foetcere Ciry—
~Best ue“ axp “Goxze ox ”—Tue Exp ov tue Track.

Aas! I have to go a long way back to the city of
Toronto, where I had just completed the purchase of a
full costume of a Western borderer. On the 10th of June
I crossed the Detroit River from Western Canada to the
State of Michigan, and travelling by the central railway of
that state reached the great city of Chicago on the fol-
lowing day. All Americans, but particularly all Western
Americans, are very-proud of this big city, which is not
yet as old as many of its mhabitants, and they are justly
proud of it. It is by very much the largest and the richest
of the new cities of the New World. Maps made fifty
years ago will be searched in vain for Chicago. Chicago
was then a swamp where the skunks, after whom it is
called, held undisputed revels. To-day Chicago numbers
about 300,000 souls, and it is about “ the livest city in our
great Republic, sir.” :
Chicago lies almost 1000 miles due west of New
York. A traveller leaving the latter city, let us say on
Monday morning, finds himself on Tuesday at eight o’clock
in the evening in Chicago—one thousand miles in thirty-
four hours. In the meantime he will have eaten three

TIE GREAT LONE LAND. 49

meals and slept soundly “on board?’ his palace-car, if he
is so minded. For many hundred miles during the latter
portion of his journey he will have noticed great tracts of
swamp and forest, with towns and cities and settlements
interspersed between ; and then, when these tracts of swamp
and unreclaimed forest seem to be increasing instead of
diminishing, he comes all of a sudden upon a vast, full-
grown, bustling city, with tall chimneys sending out much
smoke, with heavy horses dragging great drays of bulky
freight through thronged and busy streets, and with tall-
masted ships and whole fleets of’ steamers lying packed
against the crowded quays. He has begun to dream him-
self in the West, and lo! there rises up a great city. ‘“ But
is not this the West?” will ask the new-comer from the
Atlantic states. “ Upon your own showing we are here
1000 miles from New York, by water 1500 miles to Que-
bee; surely this must be the West?” No; for in this New
World the West is ever on the move. Twenty years ago
Chicago was West; ten years ago it was Omaha; then it
was Salt Lake City, and now it is San Francisco on the
Pacific Ocean.

This big city, with its monster hotels and teeming traffic,
was no new scene to me, for I had spent pleasant days in it
three years before. An American in America is a very
pleasant fellow. It is true that on may social points and
habits his views may differ from ours in a manner very
shocking to our prejudices, insular or insolent, as these pre-
judices of ours too frequently are; but meet him with fair
allowance for the fact that there may be two sides to a
question, and that a man may not tub every morning and
yet be a good fellow, and in nine cases of ten you will find
him most agreeable, a little inquisitive perhaps to know
your peculiar belongings, but equally ready to impart to you

50 TNE GREAT LONE LAND.

the details of every item connected with his business—
altogether a very jolly every-day companion when met on
even basis. If you happen to be a military man, he will
call you Colonel or General, and expect similar recognition
of rank by virtue of his voluntcer services in the 44th
Mlinois, or 55th Missourian. At present, and for many
years to come, it is and will be a safe method of beginning
any observation to a Western American with “I say,
General,” and on no account ever to get below the rank
of ficld officer when addressing any body holding a
socially smaller position than that of bar-keeper. Indeed
major-gencrals were as plentiful in the United States at the
termination of the great rebellion as brevet-majors were in
the British service at the close of the Crimean campaign.
It was at Plymouth, I think, that a grievance was esta-
Lhished by a youngster on the score that he really could
not spit out of his own window without hitting a brevet-
major outside ; and it was in a Western city that the man
threw his stick at a dog across the road, “missed that
dawg, sir, but hit five major-gencrals on t’other side, and
"twasn’t a good day for major-generals either, sir’? Not
less necessary than knowledge of social position is know-
ledge of the political institutions and characters of the
West. Not to know Rufus P. W. Smidge, or Ossian W.
Dodge of Minnesota, is simply to argue yourself utterly
unknown. My first experience of Chicago fully impressed
me with this fact. I had made the acquaintance of an
American gentleman “on board” the train, and as we ap-
proached the city along the sandy margin of Lake Michigan
he kindly pointed out the buildings and public institutions
of the neighbourhood.

“There, sir,” he finally said, “there is our new monu-
meat to Stephen B. Douglas.”

THE GREAT LONE LAND. 51

I looked in the direction indicated, and beheld some
blocks of granite in course of erection into a pedestal. I
confess to having been entirely ignorant at the time as to
what claim Stephen B. Douglas may have had to this
public recognition of his worth, but the tone of my in-
formant’s voice was sufficient to warn me that every body
knew Stephen B. Douglas, and that ignorance of his
carcer might prove hurtful to the feelings of my new
acquaintance, so I carefully refrained from showing by
word or look the drawback under which I laboured. There
was with me, however, a travelling companion who, to an
ignorance of Stephen B. D. fully equal to mine own, added
a truly British indignation that monumental honours
_aiouid be bestowed upon one whose fame was still faint
stzees the Atlantic. Locking partly at the monument,
pacity 3¢ our American informant, and partly at me, he
iustily ejaculated,“ Who the devil was Stephen B. Douglas?”

Alas! the murder was out, and out in its most aggra-
vating form. I hastily attempted a reseue. “ Not know
who Stephen B. Douglas was?” I exclaimed, in a tone of
mingled reproof and surprise. “Is it possible you don’t
know who Stephen B. Douglas was ?”

Nothing cowed by the assumption of knowledge implied
by my question, my fellow-traveller was not to be done.
« All deuced fine,” he went on, “Tl bet you a fiver you
don’t know who he was either !”

I kicked at him under the seat of the carriage, but it was
of no use, he persisted in his reckless offers of “ laying
fivers,” and our, united ignorance stood fatally revealed.

Round the city of Chicago stretches upon three sides a
vast level prairie, a meadow larger than the area of
England and Wales, and as fertile as the luxuriant vege-
tation of thousands of years decaying under a semi-tropic

’ £2

52 THE GREAT LONE LAND.

sun could make it. Tllinois is in round numbers 400 miles
from north to south, its greatest breadth being about 200
miles. The Mississippi, running in vast curves along the
entire length of its western frontier for 700 miles, bears
away to southern ports the rich burden of wheat and
Indian corn. The inland sea of Michigan carries on its
waters the wealth of the northern portion of the state to
the Atlantic seaboard. The Ohio, flowing south and west, _
unwaters the south-eastern counties, while 5500 miles of
completed railroad traverse the interior of the state. This
5500 miles of iron road is a significant fact—5500 miles of
railway in the compass of a single western state! more
than all Hindostan can boast of, and nearly half the railway
mileage of the United Kingdom. Of this immense system
of interior connexion Chicago is the centre and heart.
Other great centres of commerce have striven to rival the
City of the Skunk, but all have failed; and to-day, thanks
to the dauntless energy of the men of Chicago, the garden
state of the Union possesses this immense extent of railroad,
ships its own produce, north, east, end south, and boasts a
population scarcely inferior to that of many older states;
and yet it is only fifty years ago since William Cobbett
. laboured long and earnestly to prove that English emi-
grants who pushed on into the “ wilderness of the Illinois
went straight to misery and ruin.”

Passing through Chicago, and going out by one of the
lines running north along the shore of Lake Michigan, I
reached the city of Milwaukie late in the evening.
Now the city of Milwaukie stands above 100 miles north
of Chicago and is to the State of Wisconsin what its southern
neighbour (100 miles in the States is nothing) is to Illinois.
Being also some 100 miles nearer to the entrance to Lake
Michigan, and consequently nearer by water to New York

THE GREAT LONE LAND. ID

and the Atlantic, Milwaukie carries off no small share of
the export wheat trade of the North-west. Behind it lie
the rolling prairies of Wisconsin, Iowa, and Minnesota, the
three wheat-growing states of the American Union. Secan-
dinavia, Germany, and Ircland have made this portion of
America their own, and in the streets of Milwaukie one
hears the guttural sounds of the Teuton and the deep brogue
of the Irish Celt mixed in curious combinations. This
railway-station at Milwaukie is one of the great distributing
points of the in-coming flood from Northern Europe. From
here they scatter far and wide over the plains which lie
between Lake Michigan and the head-waters of the Missis-
sippi. No one stops to look at these people as they throng
the wooden platform and fill the sheds at the depdt; the
sight is too common to cause interest now, and yet it is a
curious sight this entry of the outcasts into the promised
land. Tired, travel-stained, and worn come the fair-haired
crowd of men and women and many children, cating all
manner of strange food while they rest, and speaking all
manner of strange tongues, carrying the most uncouth
shapeless boxes that trunkmaker of Bergen or Upsal can
devise—such queer oval red-and-green painted wooden
cases, more like boxes to hold musical instruments than for
the Sunday kit of Hans or Christian—clothing much soiled
and worn by lower-deck lodgment and spray of mid-
Atlantic roller, and dust of that 1100 miles of railroad
since New York was left behind, but still with many traces,
under dust and seediness, of Scandinavian rustic fashion ;
altogether a homely people, but destined ere long to lose
every vestige of their old Norse habits under the grindstone
of the great mill they are now entering. That vast human
machine which grinds Celt and Saxon, Teuton and Dane,
Fin and Goth into the same image and likeness of the

f. THE GREAT LONE LAND.

inevitable Yankee—grinds him too into that image in one
short generation, and oftentimes in less; doing it without
any apparent outward pressure or any tyrannical law of
language or religion, but nevertheless beating out, welding,
and amalgamating the various conflicting races of the Old
World into the great American people. Assuredly the
world has never witnessed any experiment of so gigantic
a nature as this immense fusion of the Caucasian race now
going on before our eyes in North America. One asks
oneself, with feelings of dread, what is to be the result?
Is it to eliminate from the human race the evil habits of
each nationality, and to preserve in the new one the noble
characteristics of all? I say one asks the question with a
feeling of dread, for it is the question of the well-being of
the whole human family of the future, the question of the
advance or retrogression of the human race. No man
living can answer that question. Time alone can solve it ;
but one thing is certain—so far the experiment bodes ill for
success. Too often the best and noblest attributes of the -
people wither and die out by the process of transplanting.
The German preserves inviolate his love of lager, and leaves
behind him his love of Fatherland. The Celt, Scotch or
Irish, appears to eliminate from his nature many of those
traits of humour of which their native lands are so pregnant.
It may be that this is only the beginning, that a national
decomposition of the old distinetions must oecur before the
new elements can arise, and that from it all will come in
the fulness of time a regenerated society —
“ Sin itself be found,
A cloudy porch oft opening on the sun.”

But ai present, looking abroad over the great seething mass
of American society, there seems little reason to hope for
suck a result. The very groundwork of-the whole plan will

TUE GREAT LONE LAND. dd

require alteration. The dollar must cease to be the only
God, and that old, old proverb that “honesty is the best
policy” must once more come into fashion.

Four hundred and six miles intervene between Milwaukie,
in the State of Wisconsin, and St. Paul, the capital and
principal city of the State of Minnesota. About half that
distance lies through the State of Wisconsin, and the
remaining half is somewhat unequally divided between Iowa
and Minnesota. Leaving Milwaukie at eleven o’clock a.m.,
one reaches the Mississippi at Prairie-du-Chien at ten o’clock
same night; here a steamer ferries the broad swift-running
stream, and at North Macgregor, on the Iowa shore, a train is
in waiting to take on board the now sleepy passengers. The
railway sleeping-car is essentially an American institution.
Like every other institution, it has its erities, favourable
and severe. On the one hand, it is said to be the acme of
comfort; on the other, the essence of unrest. But it is just
what might be expected under the circumstances, neither
one thing nor the other. No one in his senses would prefer
to sleep in a bed which was being borne violently along
over rough and uneven iron when he could select a
stationary resting-place. On the other hand, it is a very
great saving of time and expense to travel for some eighty
vr one hundred consecutive hours, and this can only be
effected by means of the sleeping-car. Take this distance,
from New York to St. Paul, as an instance. It is about
1450 miles, and it can be accomplished in sixty-four hours.
Of course one cannot expect to find oneself as comfor-
tably located as in an hotel; but, all things considered, the
balance of advantage is very much on the side of the
slecping-car. After a night or two one becomes accustomed
to the noise and oscillation; the little peculiarities incidental
to turmmg-m in rather 2 promiscuous manner with ladies

56 ‘HE GREAT LUNE LAND.

old and young, children in arms and out of arms, vanish
before the force of habit; the necessity of making an carly
rush to the lavatory appliances in the morning, and there
securing a plentiful supply of water and clean towels,
becomes quickly apparent, and altogether the sleeping-car
ceases to be a thing of nuisance and is accepted as an acecom~
plished fact. The interior arrangements of the car are
conducted as follows:—A passage runs down the centre
from one door to the other; on either side are placed the
berths or “sections” for sleeping; during the day-time
these form seats, and are occupied by such as care to take
them in the ordinary manner of railroad cars. At night,
however, the whole car undergoes a complete transforma-
tion. A negro attendant commences to make down the
beds. This operation is performed by drawing out, after the
manner of telescopes, portions of the car heretofore looked
upon as immoveable; from various receptacles thus ren-
dered visible he extracts large store of blankets, mattresses,
bolsters, pillows, sheets, all which he arranges after the
usual method of such articles. His work is done speedily
and without noise or bustle, and in a very short time the
interior of the car presents the spectacle of a long, dimly-
lighted passage, having on either side the striped damask
curtains which partly shroud the berths behind them. Into
these berths the passengers soon withdraw themselves, and all
goes quietly til] morning—unless, indeed, some stray turning
bridge bas been left turned over one of the numerous creeks
that underlie the track, or the loud whistle of “ brakes
down ” is the short prelude to one of the many disasters of
American railroad travel. There are many varieties of the
sleeping-car, but the principle and mode of procedure are
identical in each. Some of those constructed by Messrs.
Pullman and Wagner areas gorgeously decorated as gilding,

THE GREAT LONE LAND. 57
plating, velvet, and damask can make them. The former
gentleman is likely to live long after his death in the title
of his cars. One takes a Pullman (of course, only a share
of a Pullman) as one takes a Hansom. Pullman and
slecping-car have become synonymous terms likely to last
the wear of time. Travelling from sunrise to sunset
through a country which offers but few changes to the eye,
and at a rate which in the remoter districts seldom exceeds
twenty miles an hour, is doubtless a very tiresome occupa-
tion; still it has much to relieve the tedium of what under
the English system of railroad travel-would be almost
insupportable. The fact of easy communication being
maintained between the different cars renders the passage
from one car to another during motion a most feasible
undertaking. One can visit the various cars and inspect
their occupants, and to a man travelling to obtain informa-
tion this is no small boon. Americans are always ready to
enter into conversation, and though many queer fish will
doubtless be met with in such interviews, still as one is
certain to fall in with persons from all parts of the Union—
Down-easters, Southerners, Western men, and Californians
—the experiment of “knocking around the cars ” is well
worth the trial of any person who is not above taking
human nature, as we take the weather, just as it comes.

The individual known by the title of “ train-boy ” is also
worth some study. He is oftentimes a grown-up man, but
more frequently a most precocious boy ; he is the agent for
some enterprising house in Chicago, New York, or Philadel-
phia, or some other large town, and his aim is to dispose of a
very miscellaneous collection of mental and bodily nourish-
ment. He usually commences operations with the mental
diet, which he serves round in several courses. The first
course consists of works of a high moral character—

98 THE GREAT LONE LAND.

.
standard English novels in American reprints, and works of
travel or biography. These he lays beside cach passenger,
stopping now and then to recommend one or the other for
some particular excellence of morality or binding. Having
distributed a portion through the eur, he passes into the next
car, and so through the train. After a few minutes’ delay
he returns again to pick up the books and to settle with
any one who may be disposed to retain possession of one.
Alter the lapse of a very short time he reappears with the
secund course of Jiterature. This usually consists of a
much lower standurd of excellence—Yankee fun, illustrated
periodicals of a feeble nature, and cheap reprints of popular
works, The third course, which soon follows, is, however,
a very much lower one, and it is a subject for regret on the
part of the moralist that the same powers of persuasion
which but a little time ago were put forth to advocate the
sale of some works of high moral excellence should now be
exerted to push a vigorous circulation of the “Last Sensa-
tion,” “The Dime Llustrated,” “New York under Gas-
light,” “The Bandits of the Rocky Mountains,” and other
similar productions. These pernicious periodicals having
been shown around, the train-boy evidently becomes
convinced that mental culture requires from him no
farther effurt; be relinquishes that portion of his labour
and devotes all his energies to the sale of the bodily
nourishment, consisting of oranges and peaches, according
to season, of a very sickly and uninviting description ; these
he follows with sugar in various preparations of stickiness,
supplementing the whole with pea-nuts and crackers. In
the end he becomes without any doubt a terrible nuisance ;
one conceives a mortal hatred for this precocious pedlar who
with his vile compounds is ever bent upon forcing you to
purchase his wares. He gets, he will tell you, a percentage

Mt,

TIE GREAT LONE LAND. 59

on his sales of ten cents in the dollar; if you are going a
long journey, he will calculate to sell you a dollar’s worth of
his stock. You are therefore worth to him ten cents. Now
you cannot do better in his first round of high moral hitera-
ture than present him at once with this ten cents, stipu-
luting that on no account is he to invite your attention,
press you to buy, or offer you any candy, condiment, or
look during the remainder of the journey. If you do this
you will get out of the train-boy at a reasonable rate.

Going to sleep as the train works its way slowly up the
grades which Jead to the higher level of the State of Iowa
from the waters of Mississippi one sinks into a state of dim
consciousness of all that is going on in the long carriage.
The whistle of the locomotive—which, by the way, is very
much more melodious than the one in use in England,
being softer, deeper, and reaching toa greater distance—the
roll of the train into stations, the stop and the start, all
become, as it were, blended into uneasy sleep, until
daylight sets the darkey at his work of making up the
sections. When the sun rose we were well into Minnesota,
the most northern of the Union States. Around on every
side stretched the great wheat lands of the North-west, that
region whose farthest limits lie far within the territories
where yet the xed man holds his own. Here, in the south
of Minnesota, one is only on the verge of that great wheat
region, Far boyond the northern limit of the state it ©
stretches away into latitudes unknown, save to the fur trader
and the red man, latitudes which, if you tire not on the road,
good reader, you and I may journey into together.

The City of St. Paul, capital and chief town of the State of
Minnesota, gives promise of rising to a very high position
among the great trade centres of America. It stands almost
at the head of the navigation of the Mississippi River, about

60 THE GREAT LONE LAND.

2050 miles from New Orleans; not that the great river has
its beginning here or in the vicinity, its cradle lies far to the
north, 700 miles along the stream. But the Falls of St.
Anthony, a few miles above St. Paul,interrupt all navigation,
and the course of the river for a considerable distance above
the fall is full of rapids and obstructions. Immediately
above and below St. Paul the Mississippi River receives
several large tributary streams from north-east and north-
west; the St. Peter’s or Minnesota River coming from near
the Coteau of the Missouri, and the St. Croix unwatering
the great tract of pine land which lies west of Lake Superior ;
but it is not alone to water communication that St. Paul
owes its commercial importance. With the same restless
energy of the Northern American, its leading men have
looked far into the future, and shaped their course for later
times; railroads are stretching out in every direction to
pierce the solitude of the yet uninhabited prairies and pine
forests of the North. There is probably no part of the
world in which the inhabitants are so unhealthy as in
America; but the life is more trying than the climate, the
constant use of spirit taken “ straight,” the incessant
chewing of tobacco with its disgusting accompaniment, the
want of healthier exercise, the habit of eating in a hurry,
all tend to eut short the term of man’s life in the New
‘World. Nowhere have I seen so many young wrecks.
“Yes, sir, we live fast here,” said a general officer to me one
day on the Missouri; “And we die fast too,” echoed a
major from another part of the room. As a matter of
course, places possessing salubrious climates are crowded
with pallid seekers after health, and as St. Paul enjoys a dry
and bracing atmosphere from its great elevation above the sea
level, as well as from the purity of the surrounding prairies,
its hotels—and they are many— are crowded with the broken

THE GREAT LONE LAND. 61

wrecks of half the Eastern states; some find what they
seek, but the majority come to Minnesota only to die.
Business connected with the supply of the troops during
the coming winter in Red River, detained me for some
weeks in Minnesota, and as the letters which I had des-
patched upon my arrival, giving the necessary particulars
regarding the proposed arrangements, required at least a
week to obtain replies to, I determined to visit in the interim
the shores of Lake Superior. Here Twould glean what tidings
I could of the progress of the Expedition, from whose base
at Fort William, I would be only 100) miles distant, as well
ag examine the chances of Fenian intervention, so much
talked of in the American newspapers, as likely to place in
peril the flank of the expeditionary force as it followed the
devious track of swamp and forest which has on one side
Minnesota, and on the other the Canadian Dominion.
Since my departure from Canada the weather had been
intensely warm—pleasant in Detroit, warm in Chicago, hot
in Milwaukie, and sweltering, blazing in St. Paul, would
have aptly described the temperature, although the last-
named city is some hundred miles more to the north than
the first. But latitude is no criterion of summer heat in
America, and the short Arctic summer of the Mackenzie
River knows often a fiercer heat than the swamp lands of
the Carolinas. So, putting together a very light field-kit, T
started early one morning from St. Paul for the new town
of Duluth, on the extreme westerly end of Lake Superior.
Duluth, I was told, was the very newest of new towns, in
fact it only had an existence of eighteen months; as may be
inferred, it had no past, but any want in that respect was
compensated for in its marvellous future. It was to be the
great grain emporium of the North-west ; it was to kill St.
Paul, Milwaukie, Chicago, and half-a-dozen other thriving

62 THE GREAT LONE LAND.

towns; its murderous propensities scemed to have no
bounds; lots were already selling at fabulous prices, and every
body seemed to have Duluth in some shape or other on the
brain. To reach this paradise of the future I had to travel
100 miles by the Superior and Mississippi railroad, to a
halting-place known as the End of the Track—a name which
gave a very accurate idea of its whereabouts and general
capabilities. The line was,in fact, in course of formation, and
was being rapidly pushed forward from both ends with a
view to its being opened through by the Ist day of August.
About forty miles north-east of St. Paul we entered the
region of pine forest. At intervals of ten or twelve miles
the train stopped at places bearing high-sounding titles,
such as Rush City, Pine City; but upon examination one
looked in vain for any realization of these names, pines and
rushes certainly were plentiful enough, bat the city part
of the arrangement was nowhere visille. Upon asking a
fellow-passenger for some explanation of the phenomena,
he answered, “ Guess there was a city hercaway last year,
but it’s busted up or gone on.” Travellers unacquainted
with the vernacular of America might have conjured up
visions of a catastrophe not less terrible than that of
Pompeii or Herculaneum, but an earlier acquaintance of
Western cities had years before taught me to comprehend
such phrases. In the autumn of 1867 I had visited the
prairies of Nebraska, along the banks of the Platte River.
Buffalo were numerous on the sandy plains which form
the hunting-grounds of the Shienne and Arapahoe Indians,
and amongst the vast herds the bright October days
passed quickly enough. One day, in company with an
American officer, we were following, as usual, a herd of
Duffalo, when we came upon a town standing silent and de-
serted in the middle of the prairie.“ That,” said the Ameri-

THE GREAT LONE LAND. 63

can, “is Kearney City ; it did a good trade in the old waggon
times, but it busted up when the railroad went on farther
west; the people moved on to North Platte and Julesburg—
guess there’s only one man left in it now, and he’s got
snakes in his boots the hull season.” Marvelling what
manner of man this might be who dwelt alone in the silent
city, we rode on. One house showed some traces of occu-
pation, and in this house dwelt the man. We had passed
through the deserted grass-grown street, and were again on
the prairie, when a shot rang out behind us, the bullet cutting
up the dustaway to the left. “ By G he’s on the shoot,”
cried our friend ; “ride, boys!” and so we rode. Much has
been written and said of cities old and new, of Aztec and
Peruvian monuments, but I venture to offer to the attention
of the future historian of America this sample of the busted-
up city of Kearney and its solitary indweller, who had snakes
in his boots and was on the shoot.

After that explanation of a “lusted-up” and “ gone-on *
city, I was of course sufficiently well “ posted” not to require
further explanation as to the fate of Pine and Rush Cities; but
had T entertained any doubts upon the subject, the final stop-
page of the train at Moose Lake, or City, would have effee-
tually dispelled them. ‘For there stood the portions of Rush
and Pine Cities which had not “bust up,” but had simply
gone on.” Two shanties, with a few outlying sheds, stood
on either side of the track, which here crossed a clear running
forest stream. Passenger communication ended at this point;
the rails were laid down for a distance of cight miles farther,
but only the “ construction train,” with supplies, men, &c.,
proceeded to that point. Track-laying was going on at the
rate of three miles a day, I was informed, and the line
would soon be opened to the Dalles of the St. Louis
River, near the head of Lake Superior. The heat all day

o+ THE GREAT LONE LAND.

had been very great, and it was refreshing to get out of the
dusty car, even though the shanties, in which cating,
drinking, and sleeping were supposed to be carried on, were
of the very lowest description. I had made the acquaint-
ance of the express agent, a gentleman connected with the
baggage department of the ‘{rain, and during the journey
he had taken me somewhat into his confidence on the
matter of the lodging and entertainment which were to be
found in the shanties. ‘ The food ain’t bad,”’ he said, © but
that there shanty of Tom’s licks creation for bugs.” This
terse and forcibly expressed opinion made me select the
interior of a waggon, and some fresh hay, as a place of rest,
where, in spite of vast numbers of mosquitoes, I slept the
sleep of the weary.

The construction train started from Moose City at six
o’clock a.m., and as the stage, which was supposed to connect
with the passenger train and carry forward its human freight
to Superior City was filled to overflowing, I determined to
take advantage of the construction train, and travel on it as
far as it would take me. A very motley group of lumberers,
navvies, and speculators assembied for breakfast a five o’clock
a.m. at Tom’s table, and although I cannot quite confirm the
favourable opinion of my friend the express agent as to the
quality of the viands which graced it, I can at least testify to
the vigour with which the “ guests” disposed of the pork and
beans, the molasses and dried apples which Tom, with foul
fingers, had set before them. Seated on the floor of aw: ¢eon in
the construction train, in the midst of navvies of all countries
and ages, I reached the end of the track while the morning sun
was yet lowin the east. [had struck up akind of partnership
for the journey with a pedlar Jew and a Ohio man, both going
to Duluth, and as we had a march of eighteen miles to get
through between the end of the track and the town of Fond-

THE GREAT LONE LAND. 65

du-Lae, it became necessary to push on before the sun had
reached his midday level; so, shouldering our baggage, we
lett the busy scene of track-laying and struck out along
the graded Jine for the Dalles of the St. Louis. Up
to this point the line had been fully levelled, and the
walking was easy enough, but when the much-talked of
Dalles were reached a complete change took plece, and the
toil became excessive. The St. Louis River, which in reality
forms the headwater of the great St. Lawrence, has its
source in the dividing ridge between Minnesota and the
British territory. From these rugged Laurentian ridges
it foams down in an impetuons torrent through wild pine-
clad steeps of rock and towering preeipice, apparently to
force an outlet into the valley of the Mississippi, but at the
Dalles it seems to have suddenly preferred to seek the
cold waters of the Atlantic, and, bending its course
abruptly to the east, it pours its foaming torrent into
the great Lake Superior below the old French trading-post
of Fond-du-Laec. The load which IJ carried was not of itself
a heavy one, but its weight became intolerable under the
rapidly increasing heat of the sun and from the toilsome
nature of the road. The deep narrow gorges over which
the railway was to be carried were yet unbridged, and we
had to let ourselves down the steep yielding embankment
to a depth of over 100 feet, and then clamber up the other
side almost upon hands and knees—this under a sun that
beat down between the hills with terrible intensity on the
yellow sand of the railway cuttings! The Ohio man
earried no baggage, but the Jew was heavily laden, and
soon fell behind. For atime I kept pace with my light
companion; but soon I too was obliged to lag, and about
midday found myself alone in the solttudes of the Dalles.
At last there came a gorge deeper and steeper than
r

66 TUE GREAT LONE LAND.

any thing that had preceded it, and I was forced to
rest long before attempting its almost perpendicular ascent.
When I did reach the top, it was to find myself thoroughly
done up—the sun came down on the side of the embank-
ment as though it would bum the sandy soil into ashes,
not a breath of air moved through the silent hills, not a
leaf stirred’in the forest. My load was more than I could
bear, and again I had to lie down to avoid falling down.
Only once before had I experienced a similar sensation of
choking, and that was in toiling through a Burmese
swamp, snipe-shooting under a midday sun. How near
that was to sun-stroke, I can’t say; but I don’t think it
could be very far. Aftera little time, I saw, some distance
down below, smoke rising from a shanty. J made my way
with no small difficulty to the door, and found the place
full of some twenty or more rough-bearded looking men
sitting down to dinner.

“ About played out, I guess?” said one. “ Wall, that sun
is h—; any how, come in and have a bit. Have a drink of
tea—or some vinegar and water.”

They filled me out a literal dish of tea, black and boil-
ing ; and I drained the tin with a feeling of relief such as
one seldom knows. The place was lined round with bunks
like the forecastle of a ship. After a time I rose to depart
and asked the man who acted as cook how much there
was to pay-

“Not a cent, stranger ;” and so I left my rough hospi-
table friends, and, gaining the railroad, lay down to
yest until the fiery“sun had got lower in the west. The
remainder of the road was thronged with gangs of men at
work along it, bridging, blasting, building, and levelling —
strong able-bodied fellows fit for any thing. Each gang

THE GREAT LUNE LAND. 67

was under the superintendence of a railroad “ boss,” and all
seemed to be working well. But then two dollars a head
per diem will make men work well even under such a

sun.

ir 94
*)

68 THE GREAT TONE LAND.

CHAPTER V.

Lake Surertor—Tue Dattes or tue St, Lovis—Tue Nori
Paciric Raitroap—Foxp-pe-Lac—DuLuti—Screrior Crrr—
Tue Great Lake—A Phan tro pry cre Niagara—Stace Drrv-
tic—Tom’s Suanty aGsiv—Sr. Pact axp rts Neionsournoon.

Ausost in the centre of the Dalles I passed the spot
where the Northern Pacific Railroad had on that day
turned its first sod, commencing its long course across the
continent. This North Pacific Railroad is destined to play
a great part in the future history of the United States ; it
is the second great link which is to bind together the
Atlantic and Pacifie States (before twenty years there will
be many others). From Puget Sound on the Pacific to
Duluth on Lake Superior is about 2200 miles, and across
this distance the North Pacific Railroad is to run. The im-
mense plains of Dakota, the grassy uplands of Montana
and Washington, and the centre of the State of Minne-
sota will behold ere long this iron road of the North
Pacific Company piercing their lonely wilds. “ Red
Cloud ” and “ Black Eagle” and “ Standing Buffalo” may
gather their braves beyond the Coteau te battle against this
steam-horse which scares their bison from his favourite
breeding grounds on the scant pastures of the great Missouri
plateau ; but all their efforts will be in vain, the dollar will
beat them out. Poor Red Cloud! in spite of thy towering
form and mighty strength, the dollar is mightier still, and
the fiat has gone forth before which thou and thy braves

THE GREAT LONE LAND. 69

must pass away from the land! Very tired and covered
deep with the dust of railroad cuttings, I reached the col-
lection of scattered houses which bears the name of Fond-du-
Lae. Upon inquiring at the first house which I came to as
to the whereabouts of the hotel, I was informed by a sour-
visaged old female, that if I wanted to drink and get
drunk, I must go farther on ; but that if I wished to behave
in a quiet and respectable manner, and could live without
liquor, I could stay in her house, which was at once post-
office, Temperance Hotel, and very respectable. Being
weary and footsore, I did not feel disposed to seek
farther, for the place looked clean, the rivér was close at
hand, and the whole aspect of the scene was suggestive of
rest. In the evening hours myriads of mosquitoes and
flying things of minutest size came forth from the wooded
hills and did their best towards making life a misery; so
bad were they that I weleomed a passing navvy who dropped
in as a real godsend.

“ You’re come up to look after work on this North Pacific
Railroad, I guess?” he commenced—he was a Southern Irish~
man, but “guessed” all the same—* well, now, look here, the
North Pacifie Railroad will never be like the U.P. (Union
Pacifie)—I worked there, and I know what it was ; it was
bully, I can tell you. A chap lay in his bunk all day and
got two dollars and a half for doing it; ay, and hit the boss
on the head with his shovel if the boss gave him any d
chat. No, sirree, the North Pacific will never be like
that.”

J could not help thinking that it was perhaps quite as
well for the North Pacific Railroad Company and the boss
if they never were destined to rival the Union Pacific
Company as pictured by my companion; but I did not
attempt to say so, as it might have come under the heading

70 JIE GREAT LONE LAND.

of * d. chat,” worthy only of being replied to by that
convincing argument, the shovel.

A good night’s sleep and a swim in the St. Louis river
banished all trace of toil. I left Fond-du-Lace early in the
afternoon, and, descending by a small steamer the many-
winding St. Louis River, soon came in sight of the town of
Duluth. The heat had become excessive ; the Bay of St.
Louis, shut in on all sides by lofty hills, Jay under a mingled
mass of thunder-cloud and sunshine; far out in Lake
Superior vivid lightnings flashed over the ¢loomy water and
long rolls of thunder shook the hills around. On board our
little steamboat the atmosphere was stifling, and could not
have been short of 100° in the coolest place (it was 93° at
six o’clock same evening in the hotel at Duluth); there
was nothing for it but to lie quietly on a wooden bench
and listen to the loud talking of some fellow-passengers.
Three of the hardest of hard cases were engaged in the
mental recreation of “swapping lies;” their respective
exchanges consisting on this occasion of feats of stealing ;
the experiences of one I recollect in particular. He had
stolen an axe from a man on the North Pacific Railroad
and a few days later sold him the same article. This piece
of knavery was reecived as the aeme of ’cutencss; and i
well recollect the language in which the brute wound up
his sel{-laudations—“ If any chap ean steal faster than
me, let him.”

As we emerged from the last bend of the river and stood
across the Bay of St. Louis, Duluth, in all its barrenness,
stood before us. The future capital of the Lakes, the great
central port of the continent, the town whose wharves
were to be laden with the teas of China and the silks of
J2zpan stood out on the rocky north shore of Lake Superior,
the sorviest spectacle of city that eye ef man could lovk

THE GREAT LONE LAND. 71

upon—wooden houses scattered at intervals along a steep
ridge from which the forest had been only partially cleared,
houses of the smallest possible limits growing out ofa reedy
marsh, which lay between lake and ridge, tree-stumps and
Jumber standing in street and landing-place, the swamps
croaking with bull-frogs and passable only by crazy-
looking: planks of tilting proclivities—over all, a sun fit for
a, Carnatic coolie, and around, a forest vegetation in whose
heart the memory of Arctic winter rigour seemed to live for
ever. Still, in spite of rock and swamp and icy winter,
Yankee energy will triumph here as it has triumphed else-
where over kindred difficulties.

“There’s got to be a Boss City hereaway on this end
of the lake,” said the captain of the little boat; and
though he spoke with much labour of imprecation, both
needless then and now, taking what might be termed a
cursory view of the situation, he summed up the pro-
spects of Duluth conclusively and clearly enough.

I cannot say I enjoyed a stay of two days in Duluth.
Several new saloons (name for dram-shops, gaming-houses,
and generally questionable places) were being opened for
the first time to the public, and free drinks were conse-
quently the rule. Now “free drinks” have generally a
demoralizing tendency upon a community, but taken in
connexion with a temperature of 98° in the shade, they
quickly develope into free revolvers and freer bowie-knives.
Besides, the spirit of speculation was rampant in the hotel,
and so many men had corner lots, dock locations, pine forests,
and pre-empted lands to sell me, that nothing but flight
prevented my becoming a large holder of all manner of
Dulath securities upon terms that, upon the clearest
showing, would have been ridiculously favourable to me.
The principal chject of my visit to Duluth was to discover

72, THE GREAT LUNE LAND.

if any settlument existed at the Vermilion Lakes, eighty
miles to the north and not far from the track of the
Expedition, a place which had been named to the military
authorities in Canada as likely to form a base of attack for
any filibusters who would be adventurous cnough to make
a dash at the communication of the expeditionary foree. A
report of the discovery of gold and silver mines around the
Vermilion Lakes had induced a rush of miners there during
the previous year; but the mines had all “ bust up,” and
the miners had been blown away to other regions, leaving the
plant and fixtures of quartz-crushing machinery standing
drearily in the wilderness. These facts I ascertained from
the engineer, who had constructed a forest track from
Duluth to the mines, and into whese office I penctrated in
quest of information. Le, too, looked upon me as a specu-
lator.

* Don’t mind them mines,” he said, after I had ques-
sioned him on all points of distance and road; “ don’t
couch them mines; they’re clean gone up. The gold in
them mines don’t umount to a row of pines, and there’s not
2 man there now.”

That evening there came a violent thunder-storm, which
cleared and cvoled the atmosphere ; between ten o’clock in
the morning and three in the afternoon the thermometer fell
30°. Lake Superior had asserted its icy influence over the
sun. Glad to get away from Duluth, I crossed the bay to
Superior City, situated on the opposite, or Wisconsin shore
oF the lake. A curious formation of sand and shingle runs
out irom the shore of Duldth, forming a long narrow spit
of land projecting far inte Lake Superior. It bears the
name of Minnesota Point, and’ has evidently been formed
by the opposing influence of the east wind over the greut
expanse of the luke, and the current of the St. Louis River

THE GREAT LONE LAND. 73

from the West. It has a length of seven miles, and is only
a few yards in width. Close to the Wisconsin shore a
break occurs in this long narrow spit, and inside this open-
ing lies the harbour and city of Superior—incomparably
a better situation for a city and lake-port, level, sheltered,
capacious; but, nevertheless, Superior City is doomed to
delay, while cight miles off its young rival is rapidly rush-
ing to wealth. This anomaly is easily explained. Duluth
is pushed forward by the capital of the State of Minnesota,
while the legislature of Wisconsin looks with jealous cye
upon the formation of a second lake-port city which might
draw off to itself the trade of Milwaukie.

In course of time, however, Superior City must rise, In
spite of all hostility, to the very vrominent position to which
its natural advantages entitle it. I had not been many
minutes in the hotel at Superior City before the trying and
unsought character of land speculator was again thrust
upon me. -

** Now, stranger,” said a long-legged Yankee, who, with
hisboots on the stove—the day had got raw and cold—and his
knees considerably higher than his head, was gazing: intently
at me, “I guess Pve fixed you.” I was taken aback by
the sudden ideutification of my business, when he continued,
“ Yus, I’ve just fixed you. You air a Kanady speculator, ain’t
ye?” Not deeming it altogether wise to deny the correct-
ness of his fixing, I replied I had lived in Kanady for some
time, but that I was not going to begin speculation until I
had knocked round a little. An invitation to liquor soon
followed. The disagreeable consequence resulting from this
admission soon became apparent. JI was much pestered
towards evening by offers of investment in things varying
from asand-hill toa city-square, or what would infallibly in
course of time develope inte a city: square. A gentleman

4 THE GREAT LONE LAND.

rejoicing in the name of Vose Palmer insisted upon inter-
viewing me until a protracted hour of the night, with a
view towards my investing in straight drinks for him at
the bar and in an extensive pine forest for myself some-
where on the north shore of Lake Superior. I have no
doubt the pine forest is still in the market ; and should any
enterprising capitalist in this country fecl disposed to enter
into partnership on a basis of bearing all expenses himself,
giving only the profits to his partner, he will find “ Vose
Palmer, Superior City, Wisconsin, United States,” ever
ready to attend to him.

Before turning our steps westward from this inland-
- ocean of Superior, i¢ will be well to pause a moment on
its shore and look out over its bosom. It is worth looking
at, for the world possesses not its equal. Four hundred
English miles in length, 150 miles across it, 600 feet above
Atlantic level, 900 fect in depth—one vast spring of purest
crystal water, so cold, that during summer months its
waters are like ice itself, and so clear, that hundreds of feet
below the surface the rocks stand out as distinctly as
though seen through plate-glass. Follow in faney the
outpourings uf thi$ wonderful basin ; seck its fature course
in Huron, Eric, and Ontario, in that wild leap from the
rocky ledge which makes Niagara famous through ihe
world. Scek it farther still, in the quict loveliness of the
Thousand Isles; in the whirl and sweep of the Cedar
Rapids ; in the silent rush of the great current under the
rocks at the foot of Quebec. Ay, and even farther away
still, duwn where the lone Laurentian Hills come forth to
look again upon that water whose earliest beginnings they
cradled along the shores of Lake Superior. There, close to
the sounding billows of the Atlantic, 2000 miles from
Superior, these hills—the only ones that ever last—guard

THE GREAT LONE LAND. (x)

the great gate by which the St. Lawrence seeks the
sea.

There are rivers whose current, running red with the silt
and mud of their soft alluvial shores, carry far into the
oecan the record of their muddy progress; Lut this glorious
river system, through its many lakes and various names, is
ever the same crystal current, flowing pure from the foun-
tain-head of Lake Superior. Great cities stud its shores;
but they are powerless to dim the transparency of its
waters. Steamships cover the broad bosom of its lakes
and estuaries; but they change not the beauty of the
water-—no more than the fleets of the world mark the waves
of the ocean. Any person looking at the maps of the
region bounding the great lakes of North America will
be struck by the absence of rivers flowing into Lakes
Superior, Michigan, or Huron from the south; in fact,
the drainage of the states bordering these lakes on the
south is altogether carried off by the valley of the Missis-
sippi—it follows that this valley of Mississippi is at a much
lower level than the surface of the lakes. These Jakes, con-
taining an area of some 73,000 square miles, are therefi re
an immense reservoir held high over the level of the great
Mississippi valley, from which they are separated by a
barrier of slight elevation and extent.

It is not many years ago since an enterprising Yankee
proposed to annihilate Canada, dry up Magara, and “ fix
British creation” generally, by diverting the current of
Lake Erie, through a deep canal; into the Ohio River ; but
should nature, in one of her freaks of earthquake, ever
-eause a disruptiun to this iImtervening barrier on_ the
southern shores of the great northern Jakes, the drying
‘up of Niagara, the annihilation of Canada, and the divers
disasters tu British power, will in all probability be followed

76 THE GREAT LUNE LAND.

by the submersion of half of the Mississippi states under
the waters of these inland seas.

On the 26th June I quitted the shores of Lake Superior
and made my way back to Moose Lake. Without any excep-
tion, the road thither was the very worst I had ever travelled
over—four horses essayed to drag a stage-waggon over, or
rather, I should say, through, a track of mud and ruts im-
possible to picture. The stage fare amounted to $6, or
Jd, 4s. for 34 miles. An extra dollar reserved the box-seat
and gave me the double advantage of knowing what was
eoming in the rut line and taking another lesson in the
idiom of the American stage-driver. This idiom consists of
the smallest possible amount of dictionary words, a few
Scriptural names rather irreverently used, a very large
intermixture of “ git-ups” and ejaculatory “hi’s,’ and
a general tendency to blasphemy all round. We reached
Tom’s shanty at dusk. As before, it was crowded to excess,
and the memory of the express man’s warning was still
sufficiently strong to make me prefer the forest to “ bunk-
ing in” with the motley assemblage; a couple of Eastern
Americans shared with me the little camp. We made a
fire, laid some boards on the ground, spread a blanket upon
them, pulled the “ mosquito bars” over our heads, and lay
down to attempt to sleep. It was a vain effort; mosquitoes
came out in myriads, little atoms of gnats penetrated
through the netting of the “bars,” and rendered rest or
sleep impossible. At last, when the gnats seemed. disposed
to retire, two Germans came along, and, seeing our fire,
commenced stumbling about our boards. To be roused at
two o’clock a.m., when one is just sinking into oblivious-
ness after four hours of useless struggle with unseen
enemies, is provoking enough, but to be roused under
such circumstances by Germans is simply unbearable.

THE GREAT LONE LAND. Ve

At last daylight came. A bathe in the creck, despite the
clouds of mosquitoes, freshened one up a little and made
Tom’s terrible table seein less repulsive. Then came a long
hot day in the dusty cars, until at length St. Paul was
reached.

I remained at St. Paul some twelve days, detained there
from day to day awaiting the arrival of letters from Canada
relative to the future supply of the Expedition. This delay
was at the time most irksome, as I too frequently pictured
the troops pushing on towards Fort Garry while I was
detained inactive in Minnesota; but one morning the
American papers came out with news that the expedi-
tionary forces had met with much delay in their first move
from Thunder Bay; the road over which it was necessary
for them to transport their boats, munitions, and. supplies
for a distance of forty-four miles—from Superior to Lake
Shebandowan —was utterly impracticable, portions of it, .
indeed, had still to be made, bridges to be built, swamps to
be corduroyed, and thus at the very outset of the Expedition
a long delay became necessary. Of course, the American
press held high jubilee over this check, which was repre-
sented as only the beginning of the end of a series of
disasters. The British Expedition was never destined to
reach Red River ——swamps would entrap it, rapids
would engulf it; and if, in spite of these obstacles, some
few men did succeed in piercing the rugged wilderness,
the trusty rifle of the Metis would soon annihilate the
presumptive intruders. Such was the news and such were
the comments I had to read day after day, as I anxiously
scanned the columns of the newspapers for intelligence.
Nor were these comments on the Expedition confined te
prophecy of its failure from the swamps and rapids of the
route: Fenian aid was largely spoken of by one portion of

78 TIE GREAT LONE LAND.

the press. Arms and ammunition, and hands to use them,
were being pushed towards St. Cloud and the Red River,
to aid the free sons of the North-west to follow out their
manifest destiny, which, of course, was annexation to the
United States. But although these items made reading a
matter of no pleasant deseription, there were other things
to be done in the good city of St. Paul not without their
special interest. The Falls of the Mississippi at St. Anthony,
and the lovely little Fall of Minnehaha, lay only some seven
miles distant. Minnehaha is a perfect little beauty; its
bright sparkling waters, forming innumerable fleecy threads
of silk-like wavelets, seem to Jaugh over the rocky edge; so
light and so lace-like is the curtain, that the sunlight
streaming through looks like a lovely bride through some
rich bridal veil. The Falls of St. Anthony are neither grand
nor beautiful, and are utterly disfigured by the various saw-
. mills that surround them.

The hotel in which I lodged at St. Panl was a very
favourable specimen of the American hostelry; its pro-
prietor was, of course, a colonel, so it may be presumed that
he kept his company in excellent order. I had but few
acquaintances in St. Paul, and had little to do besides study
Ameriean character as displayed in dining-room, lounging-
hall, and verandah, during the hot fine days; but when
the hour of sunset came it was my wont to ascend to the
roof of the building to look at the glorious panorama spread
out before me—for sunset in America is of itself a sight of
rare beauty, and the valley of the Mississippi never ap-
peared to better advantage than when the rich hues of

the western sun were gilding the steep ridges that over-
hang it.

TIE GREAT LONE LAND. 79

CHAPTER VI.

Ovr Coustys—Dorxe Anerica—Iwo Lessoxs—St. Crocp—-Sick
Rariws—“ Stes Popprxe or Pesexry Pir? *“—~Trormye unt ovt
—Away For THE Rep River.

Ene.isaxen who visit America take away with them two
widely different sets of opinions. In most instances they
have rushed through the land, note-book in hand, recording
impressions and eliciting information. The visit is too
frequently a first and a last one; the thirty-seven states
are run over in thirty-seven days; then out comes the
book, and the great question of America, socially and
politically considered, is sealed for evermore. Now, if
these gentlemén would only recollect that impressions, &c.,
which are thus hastily collected must of necessity share
the imperfection of all things done in a hurry, they would
not record these hurriedly gleaned facts with such an ap-
pearance of infallibility, or, rather, they might be induced
to try a second rush across the Atlantic before attempting
that first rush into print. Let them remember that even the
genius of Dickens was not proof against such error, and that
a subsequent visit to the States caused no small amount
of alteration in his impressions of America. This second
visit should be a rule with every man who wishes to
read aright, for his own benefit, or for that of others, the
great book which America holds open to the traveller.
Above all, the English traveller who enters the United
States with a portfolio filled with letters of introduction will

80 THE GREAT LONE LAND.

generally prove the most untrustworthy guide to those
who follow him for information. He will travel from city
to city, finding every where lavish hospitality and bound-
less kindness; at every hotel he will be introduced to
several of “our leading citizens; newspapers will report
his progress, general-superintendents of railroads will
pester him with free passes over half the lines in the
Union; and he will take his departare from New York
after a dinner at Delmonico’s, the eartes of which will cost
a dollar each. The chances are extremely probable that his
book will be about as fair a representation of American
social and political institutions as his dinner at Del-
monico’s would justly represent the ordinary cwisive
throughout the Western States.

Having been féted and free-passed through the Union,
he of course comes away delighted with every thing. If he
is what is called a Liberal in polities, his political bias still
further strengthens his favourable impressions of democracy
and Delmonico; if he is a rigid Conservative, democracy
loses half its terrors when it is seen across the Atlantic—just
as widow-burning or Juggernaut are institutions much
better suited to Bengal than they would be to Berkshire.
Of course Canada and things Canadian are utterly beneath
the notice of our traveller. He may, however, introduce
them casually with reference to Niagara, which has a
Canadian shore, or Quebec, which possesses a fine view; for
the rest, America, past, present, and to come, is to be studied
in New York, Boston, Cincinnati, St. Louis, and half a
dozen other big places, and, with Niagara, Salt Lake City
and San Francisco thrown in for scenic effect, the whole thing
is complete. Salt Lake City is peculiarly valuable to the
traveller, as it affords him much subject-matter for question-
able writing. It might be well to recollect, however, that

THE GREAT LONE LAND. 81

there really exists no necessity for crossing the Atlantic
and travelling as far west as Utah in order to compose
questionable books upon unquestionable subjects; similar
materials in vast quantities exist much nearer home, and
Pimlico and St. John’s Wood will be found quite as prolific
in “ Spiritual Wives” and “Gothic” affinities as any ereek or
lake in the Western wilderness. Neither is it to be wondered
at that so many travellers carry away with them a fixed
idea that our cousins are cousins in heart as well as in re-
lationship—the friendship is of the Delmonico type too.
Those speeches made to the departing guest, those pledges
of brotherhood over the champagne glass, this “old lang
syne” with hands held in Scotch fashion, all these are not
worth much in the markets of brotherhood. You will be
told that the hostility of the inhabitants of the United
States towards England is confined to one class, and that
elass, though numerically large, is politically insignificant.
Do not believe it for one instant: the hostility to England
is universal; it is more deep rooted than any other feeling;
it is an instinct and not a reason, and consequently possesses
the dogged strength of unreasoning antipathy. I tell you,
Mr. Bull, that were you pitted to-morrow against a race
that had not one idea in kindred with your own, were you
fighting a deadly struggle against a despotism the most
galling on earth, were you engaged with an enemy whosegrip
was around your neck and whose foot was on your chest,
that English-speaking cousin of yours over the Atlantic—
whose language is your language, whose literature is your
literature, whose civil code is begotten from your digests of
law—would stir no hand, no foot, to save you, would gloat
over your agony, would keep the ring while you were,
being knocked out of all semblance of nation and power,
and would not be very far distant when the moment came
G

82 THE GREAT LONE LAND.

to hold a feast of eagles over your vast disjointed limbs.
Make no mistake in this matter, and be not blinded by ties
of kindred or belief. You imagine that because he is your
cousin—sometimes even your very son—that he cannot hate
you, and you nurse yourself in the belief that in a moment of
peril the stars and stripes would fiy alongside the old red
cross. Listen one moment; one cannot go five miles through
any State in the American Union without coming upon
a square substantial building in which children are being
taught one wniversal lesson—the history of how, through
long years of blood and strife, their country came forth a
nation from the bungling tyranny of Britain. Until five
short years ago that was the one bit of history that went
home to the heart of Young America, that was the lesson
your cousin learned, and still learns, in spite of later conflicts.
Let us see what was the lesson your son had laid to heart.
Well, your son Jearned his lesson, not from books, for too
often he could not read, but he Jearned it in a manner which
perhaps stamps it deeper into the mind than even letter-press
or schoolmaster. He left you because you would not keep
him, because you preferred grouse-moors and deer-forests
in Scotland, or meadows and sheep-walks in Ireland to him
or his. He did not leave you as one or two from a house-
hold—as one who would go away and establish a branch
connexion across the ocean; he went away by families,
by clans, by kith and kin, for ever and for aye—
and he went away with hate in his heart and dark
thoughts towards you who should have been his mother.
It matters little that he has bettered himself and grown
rich in the new land ; ¢Xat is his affair; so far as you were
concerned, it was about even betting whether he went to the -
bottom of the Atlantic or to the top of the social tree—
so, I say, to close this subject, that son and cousin owe you,

THE GREAT LONE LAND. 83

and give you, scant and feeblest love. You will find them
the firm friend of the Russian, because that Russian is
likely to become your enemy in Herat, in Cabool, in
Kashgar, or in Constantinople; you will find him the ally
ofthe Prussian whznever Kaiser William, after the fashion.
of his tribe, orders his legions to obliterate the line between
Holland and Germany, taking hold of that metaphorical
pistol which you spent so many millions to turn from your
throat in the days of the first Napoleon. Nay, even
should any woman-killing Sepoy put you to sore strait
by indiscriminate and ruthless slaughter, he will be your
cousin’s friend, for the simple reason that he is your
enemy.

But a study of American habits and opinions, however
interesting in itself, was not calculated to facilitate in any
way the solving of the problem which now beset me,
namely, the further progress of my journey to the North-
west. The accounts which I daily received were not en-
couraging. Sometimes there came news that M. Riel had
grown. tired of his pre-eminence and was anxious to lay
down his authority; at other times I heard of preparation
made and making to oppose the Expedition by force, and
of strict watch being maintained along the Pembina fron-
tier to arrest and turn back all persons except such as were
friendly to the Provisional Government. .

Nor was my own position in St. Paul at all a pleasant
one. The inquiries I had to make on subjects connected
with the supply of the troops in Red River had made so
many persons acquainted with my identity, that it soon
became known that there was a British officer in the place—
a knowledge which did not tendin any manner to make the
days pleasant in themselves nor hopeful in the anticipation
of a successful proseention of my journey in the time to

G 2

SI THE GREAT LONE LAND.

come. About the first week in July I left St. Paul for St.
Cloud, seventy miles higher up on the Mississippi, having
devided to wait no longer for instructions, but to trust to
chance for further progress towards the North-west.
“© ¥ou will meet with no obstacle at this side of the line,”
said an American gentleman who was acquainted with the
object of my journey, “but I won’t answer for the other
side ;” and so, not knowing exactly how I was to get through
to join the Expedition, but determined to try it some
way or other, I set out for Sauk Rapids and St. Cloud.
Sauk Rapids, on the Mississippi River, is a city which has
neither burst up nor gone on. It has thought fit to remain,
without monument of any kind, where it originally located
itself{—on the left bank of the Mississippi, opposite the con-
finence of the Sauk River with the “ Father of Waters.” It
takes its name partly from the Sauk River and partly from
the rapids of the Mississippi which lie abreast of the-town.
Like many other cities, it had nourished feelings of the
most deadly enmity: against its neighbours, and was to
“kill creation” on every side; but these ideas of animosity
have decreased considerably in lapse of time. Of course it
possessed a newspaper—lI believe it also possessed a church,
but I did not see that edifice; the paper, however, I did
see, and was much struck by the fact that the greater
portion of the first page—the paper had only two—was
taken up with a pictorial delineation of what Sauk Rapids
would attain to in the future, when it had sufficiently
developed its immense water-power. In the mean time—
previous to the development of said water-power—Sauk
Rapids was not a bad sort of place: a bath at an hotel in
St. Pani was a more expensive luxury than a dinner; but
the Mississippi flowing by the door of the hotel at Sauk
Rapids permitted free bathing in its waters. Any traveller

ind

THE GREAT LONE LAND. 85

in the United States will fully appreciate this condescension
on the part of the great river. Ifa man wishes to be clean,
he has to pay highly for the luxury. The baths which .
exist in the hotels are evidently meant for very rare and
important occasions.

“I would like,” said an American gentleman to a friend
of mine travelling by railway,—*I would like to show
you round our city, and will call for you at the hotel.”

“Thank you,” replied my friend; “I have only to take
a bath, and will be ready in half an hour.”

«Take a bath!’? answered the American; “why, you
ain’t sick, air you ?”

There are not many commandments strictly adhered to
im the United States; but had there ever existed a “ Thou

' shalt not tub,” the implicit obedience rendered to it would
have been delightful, but perhaps, in that case, every
American would have been a Diogenes.

The Russell House at Sauk Rapids was presided over by
a Dr. Chase. According to his card, Dr. Chase conferred
more benefactions upon the human race for the very
smallest remuneration than any man living. His hotel
was situated in the loveliest portion of Minnesota, com-
manding the magnificent rapids of the Mississippi; his
board and lodging were of the choicest description ; horses
and buggies were free, gratis, and medical attendance was
also uncharged for. Finally, the card intimated that, upon
turning over, still more astonishing revelations would meet
the eye of the reader. Prepared for some terrible instance
of humane abnegation on the part of Dr. Chase, I proceeded
to do as directed, and, turning over the card, read, “ Pre-
sent of a $500 greenback”!!! The gift of the green-
back was attended with some little drawback, inasmuch as
it was conditional upon paying to Dr. Chase the sum of

86 THE GREAT LONE LAND.

$20,000 for the goodwill, &c., of his hotel, farm, and
appurtenances, or procuring a purchaser for them at that
figure, which was, as a matter of course, a ridiculously low
one. Two damsels who assisted Dr. Chase in ministering
to the wants of his guests at dinner had a very appalling
manner of presenting to the frightened feeder his choice of
viands. The solemn silence which usually pervades the
dinner-table of an American hotel was nowhere more ob-
servable than in this Doctor’s establishment ; whether it
was from the fact that each guest suffered under a painful
knowledge of the superhuman efforts which the Doctor was
making for his or her benefit, I cannot say; but I never
witnessed the proverbially frightened appearance of the
American people at meals to such a degree as at the
dinner-table of the Sauk Hotel. When the damsels be-
fore alluded to commenced their peregrinations round the
table, giving in terribly terse language the choice of meats,
the solemnity of the proceeding could not have been ex-
eceded. “Porkorhbeef?” Pork,” would answer the trem-
bling feeder ; “ Beef or pork?” “ Beef,” would again reply
the guest, grasping eagerly at the first name which struck
upon his ear. But when the second course came round the
damsels presented us with a choice of a very mysterious
nature indeed. I dimly heard two names being uttered into
the ears of my fellow-eaters, and I just had time to notice the
paralyzing effect which the communication appeared to have
npen them, when presently over my own shoulder I heard.
the mystic sound—lI regret to say that at first these sounds
entirely failed to present to my mind any idea of food or
sustenance of known description, I therefore begged for a
repetition of the words; this time there was no mistake
about it, “Steam-pudding or pumpkin-pie?” echoed the
maiden, giving me the terrible alternative in her most

THE GREAT LONE LAND. 37

eutting tones; “ Both!” I ejaculated, with equal distinct-
ness, but, I believe, audacity unparalleled since the times of
Twist. The female Bumble seemed to recl beneath the
shock, and I noticed that after communicating her expe-
rience to her fellow waiting-woman, I was not thought of
much account for the remainder of the meal.

Upon the day of my arrival at Sauk Rapids I had let it be
known pretty widely that I was ready to become the purchaser .
of a saddle-horse, if any person had such an animal to dispose
of. In the three following days the amount of saddle-horses
produced in the neighbourhood was perfectly astonishing ;
indeed the fact of placing a saddle upon the back of any
thing possessing four legs seemed to constitute the required

animal; even a Germana “ Dutchman” came along with a
miserable thing in horseflesh, sandcracked and spavined, for
which he only asked the trifling sum of $100. Two livery-
stables in St. Cloud sent up their superannuated stagers,
and Dr. Chase had something to recommend of a very
superior description. The end of it all was, that, declining
to purchase any of the animals brought up for inspec-
tion, I found there was little chance of being able to
get over the 400 miles which lay between St. Cloud and
Fort Garry. It was now the 12th of July; I had reached
the farthest limit of railroad communication, and before me
lay 200 miles of partly settled country lying between the
Mississippi and the Red River. It is true that a four-
horse stage ran from St. Cloud to Fort Abercrombie on
Red River, but that would only have conveyed me to a
point 300 miles distant from Fort Garry, and over that last
300 miles I could see no prospect of travelling. I had there.
fore determined upon proevrizg a horse and riding the entire
way, and it was with this object that I had entered into
these inspections of horseflesh already mentioned. Matters

88 THE GREAT LUNE LAND.

were in this unsatisfactory state on the 12th of July, when
I was informed that the solitary steamboat which plied
upon the waters of the Red River was about to make a
descent to Fort Garry, and that a week would elapse before
she would start from her moorings below Georgetown, a
station of the Hudson Bay Company situated 250 miles
from St. Cloud. This was indeed the best of good news to
me; I saw in it the long-looked-for chance of bridging this
great stretch of 400 miles and reaching at last the Red
River Settlement. I saw in it still more the prospect of
joining at no very distant time the expeditionary foree
itself, after I had run the gauntlet of M. Riel and his
associates, and although many obstacles yet remained to be
overeome, and distances vast and wild had to be covered
before that hope could be realized, still the prospect of
‘ms mediate movement overcame every perspective difficulty ;
and glad indeed I was when from the top of a weil-horsed
stage I saw the wooden houses of St. Cloud disappear
beneath the prairie behind me, and I bade good-bye for
many a day to the valley of the Mississippi.

THE GREAT LONE LAND. 89

CHAPTER VII.

Norti Mixxesora—A. Beavrievt Laxp—Rivat Savaces—Aper-
CROMBIE—NEWS FROM THE Nortu—Piaxs—A Lonery Suaxty—
Tue Rep River—Prarmmes—Scuxser—Mosoquitoes—Goixne Norrit
—A Mosqurro Nicnr—A Trexpen-storn—aA Prosstan—Dakorta
—I noe ror 1—Tse Steamer “INTERNATIONAL "-—PEMBINA.

Tur stage-coach takes three days to run from St. Cloud
to Fort Abercrombie, about 180 miles. The road was tole-
rably good, and many portions of the country were very
beautiful to look at. On the second day one reaches“the
height of land between the Mississippi and Red Rivers,
a region abounding in clear erystal lakes of every size and
shape, the old home of the great Sioux nation, the true
Minnesota of their dreams. Minnesota (‘ sky-coloured
water”), how aptly did it deseribe that home which was
no longer theirs! They have left it for ever ; the Norwegian.
and the Swede now call it theirs, and nothing remains of
the red man save these sounding names of lake and river
which long years ago he gave them. Along the margins
of these lakes many comfortable dwellings nestle amongst
oak openings and glades, and hill and valley are golden in
summer with fields of wheat and corn, and little towns are
springing up where twenty years ago the Sioux lodge-poles
were the only signs of habitation; but one cannot look on
this transformation without feeling, with Longfellow, the
terrible surge of the white man, “whose breath, like the
blast of the east wind, drifts evermore to the west the scanty

90 THE GREAT LONE LAND,

smoke of the wigwams.”” What savages, too, are they, the
successors of the old-race savages! not less barbarous be-
cause they do not scalp, or war-dance, or go out to meet
the Ojibbeway in the woods or the Assineboine in the
plains.

We had passed a beautiful sheet of water called Lake
Osakis, and reached another Jake not less lovely, the name
of which I did not know.

* What is the name of this place?” I asked the driver
who had stopped to water his horses.

J don’t know,” he answered, lifting a bucket of water
to his thirsty steeds; “some God-dam Italian name, I
guess,”

This high rolling Jand which divides the waters flow-
ing into the Gulf of Mexico from those of Hudson Bay
lies at an elevation of 1600 fect above the sea level. It
is rich in every thing that can make a country prosperous ;
and that portion of the “down-trodden millions,” who
“starve in the garrets of Europe,” and have made their
homes along that height of land, have no reason to regret
their choice.

On the evening of the second day we stopped for the
night at the old stockaded post of Pomme-de-Terre, not far
from the Ottertail River. The place was foul beyond the
power of words to paint it, but a “shake down” amidst the
hay in a cow-house was far preferable to the society of man
close by.

At eleven o’clock on the following morning we reached
and crossed the Ottertail River, the main branch of the Red
River, and I beheld with joy the stream upon whose banks,
still many hundred miles distant, stood Fort Garry. Later in
the day, having passed the great level expanse known as the
Breckenridge Flats, the stage drew up at Fort Abercrombie,

THE GREAT LONE LAND. 91

and I saw for the first time the yellow, muddy waters of
the Red River of the North. Mr. Nolan, express agent,
stage agent, and hotel keeper in the town of McAulyville,
put me up for that night, and although the room which I
occupied was shared by no less than five other individuals,
he nevertheless most kindly provided me with a bed to
myself. I can’t say that I enjoyed the diggings very much.
A person lately returned from Fort Garry detailed his
experiences of that place and his interview with the Presi-
dent at some length. A large band of the Sioux Indians
was ready to support the Dictator against all comers, and
a vigilant watch was maintained upon the Pembina frontier
for the purpose of excluding strangers who might attempt
to enter from the United States; and altogether M. Riel was
as securely established in Fort Garry as if there had not
existed ared-coat in the universe. As for the Expedition, its
failure was looked upon as a foregone conclusion; nothing
had. been heard of it excepting a single rumour, and that
was one of disaster. An Indian coming from beyond Fort
Francis, somewhere in the wilderness north of Lake Supe-
rior, had brought tidings to the Lake of the Woods, that
forty Canadian soldiers had already been lost in one of the
boiling rapids of the route. “‘ Nota man will get through!”
was the general verdict of society, as that body was repre-
sented at Mr. Nolan’s hotel, and, trath to say, society
seemed elated at its verdict. All this, told to a roomful of
Americans, had no very exhilarating effect upon meas I sat,
unknown and unnoticed, on my portmanteau, a stranger to
every one. When our luck seems at its lowest there is only
one thing to be done, and that is to go on and try again.
Things certainly looked badly, obstacles grew bigger as I
got nearer to them—but that is a way they have, and they
never grow smaller merely by being looked at; so I laid my

92 THE GREAT LUNE LAND.

plans for rapid movement. There was no horse or convey-
ance of any kind te be had from Abercrombie; but I dis-
covered in the course of questions that the captain of the
“ International ”’ steamboat on the Red River had gone to
St. Paul a week before, and was expected to return to Aber-
crombie by the next stage, two days from this time; he had
left a horse and Red River cart at Abercrombie, and it was
his intention to start with this horse and cart for his steam-
boat immediately upon his arrival by stage from St. Paul.
Now the boat “International ” was lying at a part of the Red
River known as Frog Point, distant by land 100 miles
north from Abercrombie, and as I had no means of getting
over this 100 miles, except through the agency of this horse
and cart of the captain’s, it became a question of the
“-yery greatest importance to secure a place in it, for, be it
understood, that a Red River cart is a very limited convey-
ance, and a Red River horse, as we shall hereafter know,
an animal capable of wonders, but not of impossibilities.
To pen a brief letter to the captain asking for conveyance
in his cart to Frog Point, and to despatch it by the stage
back towards St. Cloud, was the work of the following
morning, and as two days had to elapse before the return
stage could bring the captain, I set out to pass that time
in a solitary house in the centre of the Breckenridge
Prairie, ten miles back on the stage-road towards St. Cloud.
This move withdrew me from the society of Fort Aber-
crombie, which for many reasons was a matter for congra-
tulation, and put me in a position to intercept the captain
on his way to Abercrombie. So on the 13th of July I left
Nolan’s hotel, and, with dog and gun, arrived at the solitary
. house which was situated not very far from the junction of
the Ottertail and Bois-des-Sioux River on the Minnesota
shore, a small, rough settler’s log-hut which stood out upon

THE GREAT LONE LAND. 93

the level sea of grass and was visible miles and miles before
one reached it. Here had rested one of those unquiet birds
whose flight is ever westward, building himself a rude nest
of such material as the oak-wooded “bays” of the Red
River afforded, and multiplying in spite of much opposition
to the contrary. His eldest had been struck dead in his
house only a few months before by the thunderbolt, which
so frequently hurls destruction upon the valley of the Red
River. The settler had seen many lands since his old home
in Cavan had been left behind, and but for his name it
would have been difficult to tell his Irish nationality. He
had wandered up to Red River Settlement and wandered
back again, had squatted in Jowa, and finally, like some
bird which long wheels in circles ere it settles upon the
earth, had pitched his tent on the Red River.

The Red River—let us trace it while we wait the coming
captain who is to navigate us down its tortuous channel.
Close to the Lake Ithaska, in which the great river Missis-
sippi takes its rise, there is a small sheet of water known
as Elbow Lake. Here, at an elevation of 1689 feet above
the sea level, nine fect higher than the, source of the
Mississippi, the Red River has its birth. It is curious
that the primary direction of both rivers should be in
courses diametrically opposite to their after-lines; the
Mississippi first running to the north, and the Red River
first bending towards the south ; in fact, it is only when it
gets down here, near the Breckenridge Prairies, that it
finally determines to seck a northern outlet to the ocean.
Meeting the current of the Bois-des-Sioux, which has its
source in Lae Travers, In which the Minnesota River, a
tributary of the Mississippi, also takes its rise, the Red
River hurries on into the level prairie and soon commences
its immense windings. This Lac Travers discharges in

94 THE GREAT LONE LAND.

wet seasons north and south, and is the only sheet of water
on the Continent which sheds its waters into the tropics of
the Gulf of Mexico and into the polar ocean of the Hudson
Bay. In former times the whole system of rivers bore the
name of the great Dakota nation—the Sioux River and
the title of Red River was only borne by that portion of
the stream which flows from Red Lake to the forks of the
Assineboine. Now, however, the whole stream, from its
source in Elbow Lake to its estuary in Lake Winnipeg
fully 900 miles by water, is called the Red River: people
say that the name is derived from a bloody Indian
battle which once took place upon its banks, tinging the
waters with crimson dye. It certainly cannot be called red
from the hue of the water, which is of a dirty-white colour.
Flowing towards the north with innumerable twists and
sudden turnings, the Red River divides the State of Minne-
sota, which it has upon its right, from the great territory
of Dakota, receiving from each side many tributary streams
which take their source in the Leaf Hills of Minnesota and
im the Coteau of the Missouri. Its tributaries from the east
flow through dense forests, those from the west wind through
the vast sandy wastes of the Dakota Prairie, where trees are
almost unknown. The plain through which Red River flows
is fertile beyond description. Ata little distance it looks
one vast level plain through which the windings of the
river are marked by a dark line of woods fringing the
whole length of the stream—each tributary has also its line
of forest—a line visible many miles away over the great
sea of grass. As one travels on, there first rise above
the prairie the summits of the trees; these gradually
grow larger, until finally, after many hours, the rivcr is
reached. Nothing else breaks the uniform level. Stand-
ing upon the ground the eye ranges over many miles of

‘THE GREAT LONE LAND. 95

grass, standing on a waggon, one doubles the area of
vision, and to look over the plains from an elevation of
twelve feet above the earth is to survey at a glance a space
so vast that distance alone seems to bound its limits.
The effect of sunset over these oceans of verdure is very
beautiful ; a thousand hues spread themselves upon the
grassy plains ; a thousand tints of gold are east along the
heavens, and the two oceans of the sky and of the earth in-
termingle in one great blaze of glory at the very gates of
the setting sun. But to speak of sunsets now is only to
anticipate. Here at the Red River we are only at the
threshold of the sunset, its true home yet lies many days’
journey to the west: there, where the long shadows of the
vast herds of bison trail slowly over the immense plains,
huge and dark against the golden west ; there, where the red
man still sees in the glory of the setting sun the realization
of his dream of heaven.

Shooting the prairie plover, which were numerous
around the solitary shanty, gossipping with Mr. Connelly
on Western life and Red River experiences—I passed
the long July day until evening came to a close. Then
came the time of the mosquito; he swarmed around the
shanty, he came out from blade of grass and up from
river sedge, from the wooded bay and the dusky prairie, in
clouds and clouds, until the air bummed with his presence.
My host “made a smoke,” and the cattle came close around
and stood into the very fire itself, scorching their hides in
attempting to escape the stings of their ruthless tormentors.
My friend’s house was not a large one, but he managed to
make me a shake-down on the loft overhead, and to it he
led the way. ‘To live in a country infested by mosquitoes
ought to insure to a person the possession of health, wisdom,
and riches, for assuredly I know of nothing so conducive to

96 JME GREAT LONE LAND.

early turning in and early turning out as that most pitiless
pest. On the present occasion I had not long turned in
betore I became aware of the presence of at least two other
persons within the limits of the little loft, for only a few
feet distant soft whispers became faintly audible. Listen-
ing attentively, I gathered the following dialogue :—

“ Do you think he has got it about him?”

“ Maybe he has,” replied the first speaker, with the voice
of a woman. _

“ Are you shure he has it at all at all ?”

* Didn’t T see it in his own hand?”

Here was a fearful position! The dark loft, the lonely
shanty miles away from any other habitation, the myste-
rious allusions to the possession of property, all naturally
combined to raise the most dreadful suspicions in the mind
of the solitary traveller. Strange to say, this conversation
had not the terrible effect upon me which might be supposed.
It was evident that my old friends, father and mother
of Mrs. C——,, occupied the loft in company with me, and
the mention of that most suggestive word, “ crathure,”
was sufficient to neutralize all suspicions connected with
the lonely surroundings of the place. It was, in fact, a
drop of that much-desired “ crathure” that the old couple
were so anxious to obtain.

About three o’clock on the afternoon of Sunday the 17th
July I left the house of Mr. Connelly, and journeyed back
to Abercrombie in the stage waggon from St. Cloud. I
had as a fellow-passenger the captain of the “International”
steamboat, whose acquaintance was quickly made. He
had received my letter at Pomme-de-Terre, and most kindly
offered his pony and cart for our joint conveyance to George-
town that evening ; so, having waited only long enough at
Abercrombie to satisfy hunger and get, ready the Red River

THE GREAT LUNE LAND. 97

cart, we left Mr. Nolan’s door some little time before sun-
set, and turning north along the river held our way towards
Georgetown. The evening was beautifully fine and clear ;
the plug trotted steadily on, and darkness soon wrapped its
mantle around the prairie. My new acquaintance had many
questions to ask and much information to impart, and al-
though a Red River cart is not the casiest mode of convey-
anee to one who sits amidships between the wheels, still
when I looked to the northern skies and saw the old pointers
marking our course almost due north, and thought that at
last I was launched fair on a road whose termination was
the goal for which I had longed so earnestly, I little recked
the rough jolting of the wheels whose revolutions brought
me closer tomy journcy’s end. Shortly after leaving Aber-
crombie we passed a small creek in whose leaves and stag-
nant waters mosquitoes were numerous.

“Tf the mosquitoes let us travel,” said my companion, as
we emerged upon the prairie again, “we should reach
Georgetown to breakfast.”

“ If the mosquitoes Jet us travel ?” thought I. “Surely
he must be joking !”

I little kmew then the significance of the captain’s words.
I thought that my experiences of mosquitoes in Indian
jungles and Irrawaddy swamps, to say nothing of my recent
wanderings by Mississippi forests, had taught me something
about these pests; but I was doomed to learn a lesson that
night and the following which will cause me never to doubt
the possibility of any thing, no matter how formidable or
how unlikely it may appear, connected with mosquitoes. It
was about ten o’clock at night when there rose close to the
south-west a small dark cloud scarcely visible above the
horizon. The wind, which was very light, was blowing
from the north-east ; so when my attention had been called

98 THE GREAT LONE LAND.

to the speck of cloud by my companion I naturally con-
eluded that it couldin no way concern us, but in this I was
grievously mistaken. In a very short space of time the
little cloud grew bigger, the wind died away altogether,
and the stars began to look mistily from a sky no longer
blue. Every now and again my companion looked towards
this increasing cloud, and each time his opinion seemed to
be Jess favourable. But another change also occurred of a
character altogether different. There came upon us, brought
apparently by the cloud, dense swarms of mosquitoes, hum-
ming and buzzing along with us as we journeyed on, and
covering our faces and heads with their sharp stinging
bites. They seemed to come with us, after us, and against
us, from above and from below, in volumes that ever in-
creased. It soon began to dawn upon me that this might
mean something akin to the “mosquitoes allowing us to
travel,” of which my friend had spoken some three hours
earlier. Meantime the cloud had increased to large propor-
tions ; it was no longer in the south-west; it ocenpied the
whole west, and was moving on towards the north. Pre-
sently, from out of the dark heavens, streamed liquid fire,
and long peals of thunder rolled far away over the gloomy
praixies. So sudden appeared the change that one could
scarce realize that only a little while before the stars had
been shining so brightly upon the ocean of grass. At
length the bright flashes came nearer and nearer, the thun-
der rolled louder and louder, and the mosquitoes seemed
to have made up their minds that to achieve the maximum
of torture in the minimum of time was the sole end and aim
of their existence. The captain’s pony showed many signs
of agony; my dog howled with pain, and rolled himself
amongst the baggage in useless writhings.

“JT thought it would come to this,” said the captain.
“We must unhitch and lie down.”

THE GREAT LONE LAND. 99

It was now midnight. To loose the horse from the
shafts, to put the oil-cloth over the cart, and to creep un-
derneath the wheels did not take my friend long. I fol-
lowed his movements, crept in and drew a blanket over my
head. Then came the crash ; the fire seemed to pour out of
the clouds. It was impossible to keep the blanket on, so
raising it every now and again I looked out from between
the spokes of the wheel. During three hours the lightning
seemed to run like a river of flame out of the clouds. Some-
times a stream would descend, then, dividing into two
branches, would pour down on the prairie two distinct
channels of fire. The thunder rang sharply, as though the
metallie clash of steel was about it, and the rain descended
in torrents upon the level prairies. At about three o’clock
in the morning the storm seemed to lull a little. Mycom-
panion crept out from underneath the cart; I followed.
The plug, who had managed to improve the occasion by
stuffing himself with grass, was soon in the shafts again,
and just as dawn began to streak the dense low-lying clouds
towards the east we were once more in motion. Still fora
couple of hours more the rain came down in drenching
torrents and the lightning flashed with angry fury over the
long corn-like grass beaten flat by the rain-torrent. What
a dreary prospect lay stretched around us when the light
grew strong enough to show it! rain and cloud lying low
upon the dank prairie.

Soaked through and through, cold, shivering, and
sleepy, glad indeed was I when a house appeared in
view and we drew up at the door of a shanty for food
and fire. The house belonged to a Prussian subject of
the name of Probsfeld, a terribly self-opinionated North
German, with all the bumptious proclivities of that thriving
nation most fully developed. Herr Probsfeld appeared to he

Ww 2

100 THE GREAT LONE LAND.

a man who reerctted that men in general should be persons
of a very inferior order of intellect, but who accepted the
fact as a thing not to be avoided under the existing arrange-
ments of limitation regarding Prussia in general and
Probsfeldsin particular. While the Herr was thus engaged
in illaminating our minds, the Frau was much more agree-
ably employed in preparing something for our bodily com-
fort. I noticed with pleasure that there appeared some
hope for the future of the human race, in the fact that the
generation of the Probsfelds seemed to be progressing satis-
factorily. Many youthful Probsfelds were visible around,
and matters appeared to promise a continuation of the line,
so that the State of Minnesota and that portion of Dakota
lying adjacent to it may still look confidently to the future.
It is more than probable that had Herr Probsfeld realized
the fact, that just at that moment, when the?sun was
breaking out through the eastern clouds over the distant
outline of the Leaf Hills, 700,000 of his countrymen were
moving hastily toward the French frontier for the special
furtherance of those ideas so dear to his mind—it is most
probable, I say, that his self-laudation and cock-like conceit
would have been in no-ways lessened.

Our arrival at Georgetown had been delayed by the night-
storm on the prairie, and it was midday on the 1Sth when we
reached the Hudson Bay Company Post which stood at the
confluence of the Buffalo and Red Rivers. Food and fresh
horses were all we required, and after these requisites had
been obtained the journey was prosecuted with renewed
vigour. Forty miles had yet to be traversed before the point
at which the steamboat lay could be reached, and for that
distance the track ran on the left or Dakota side of the Red
River. As we journeyed along the Dakota prairies the
last hour of daylight overtook us, bringing with it a scene

THE GREAT LONE LAND. 101

of magical beauty. The sun resting on the rim of the
prairie cast over the vast expanse of grass a flood of
light. On the east lay the darker green of the trees of the
Red River. The whole western sky was full of wild-looking
thunder-clouds, through which the rays of sunlight shot
upward in great trembling shafts of glory. Being on
horseback and alone, for my companion had trotted on in
his waggon, I.had time to watch and note this brilliant
spectacle; but as soon as the sun had dipped beneath the
sea of verdure an ominous sound caused me to gallop on
with increasing haste. The pony seemed to know the
significance of that sound much better than its rider.
He no longer lagged, nor needed the spur or whip to urge
him to faster exertion, for darker and denser than on the
previous night there rose around us vast numbers of
mosquitoes—choking masses of biting insects, no mere
cloud thicker and denser in one place than in another, but
one huge wall of never-ending insects filling nostrils, ears,
and eyes. Where they came from I cannot tell ; the prairie
seemed too small to hold them ; the air too limited to yield
them space. I had seen many vast accumulations of insect
life in Jands old and new, but never any thing that approached
to this mountain of mosquitoes on the prairies of Dakota.
To say that they covered the coat of the horse I rode would
be to give but a faint idea of their numbers; they were
literally six or eight deep upon his skin, and with a single
sweep of the hand one could crush myriads from his neck.
Their bum seemed to be in all things around. To ride for
it was the sole resource. Darkness came quickly down, but
the track knew no turn, and for seven miles I kept the pony
at 2 gallop; my face, neck, and hands cut and bleeding.

At last in the gloom I saw, down in what appeared to
be the bottom of a valley, a long white wooden building,

102 THE GREAT LUNE LAND.

with lights showing out through the windows, Riding
quickly down this valley we reached, followed by hosts of
winged pursuers, the edge of some water lying amidst tree-
covered. banks—the water was the Red River, and the white
wooden building the steamboat “ International.”

Now one word about mosquitoes in the valley of the Red
River. People will be inclined to say, “ We know well what a
mosquito is—very troublesome and annoying, no doubt, but
you needn’t make so much of what every one understands.”
People reading what I have written about this insect will
probably say this. I would have said so myself before the
oceurrences of the last two nights, but I will never say
so again, nor perhaps will my readers when they have read
the following :-—

It is no unusual event during a wet summer in that por-
tion of Minnesota and Dakota to which I refer for oxen and
horses to perish from the bites of mosquitoes. An exposure
of a very few hours’ duration is sufficient to cause death to
these animals. It is said, too, that not many years ago the
Sioux were in the habit of sometimes killing their captives
by exposing them at night to the attacks of the mosquitoes;
and any person who has experienced the full intensity of a
mosquito night along the American portion of the Red
River will not have any difficulty in realizing how short a
period would be necessary to cause death.

Our arrival at the “ International” was the cause of no
smal] amount of discomfort to the persons already on board
that vessel. It took us but little time to rush over the
gangway and seck safety from our pursuers within the pre-
cinets of the steamboat: but they were not to be baffled
easily ; they came in after us in millions; like Bishop
Haddo’s rats, they came “ in at the windows and in at the
doors,” until in a very short space of time the interior of the

THE GREAT LUNE LAND. 103

boat became perfectly black with insects. Attracted by the
light they flocked into the saloon, covering walls and ceil-
ing in one dark mass. We attempted supper, but had to
giveitup. They got into the coffee, they stuck fast in the
soft, melting butter, until at length, feverish, bitten, bleed-
ing, and hungry, I sought refuge bencath the gauze eur-
tuins in my cabin, and fell asleep from sheer exhaustion.
And in truth there was reason enough for sleep indepen-
dently of mosquitoes’ bites. By dint of hard travel we had
accomplished 104 miles in twenty-seven hours. The mid-
night storm had lost us three hours and added in no small de-
gree to discomfort. Mosquitoes had certainly caused but little
thoughtto be bestowed upon fatigue during the lasttwo hours;
but I much doubt if the spur-goaded horse, when he stretches
himself at night to rest his weary limbs, feels the less tired
beeause the miles flew behind him all unheeded under the
influence of the spur-rowel. When morning broke we were
in motion. The air was fresh and cool; not a mosquito
was visible. ~The green banks of Red River looked pleasant
to the eye as the “International” puffed along between them,
rolling the tranquil water before her in a great muddy
wave, which broke amidst the red and grey willows on the
shore. Now and then the eye caught glimpses of the
praizies through the skirting of oakwoods on the left, but to
the right there Jay an unbroken line of forest fringing
deeply the Minnesota shore. The “International ” was a
* curious craft; she measured about 130 feet in length, drew
only two feet of water, and was propelled by an enormous
wheel placed over her stern. Eight summers of varied success
and as many winters of total inaction had told heavily
against her river worthiness; the sun had cracked her roof
and sides, the rigour of the Winnipeg winter left its trace
ov bows and hull. Her engines were a perfect marvel of

104 THE GREAT LONE LAND.

patchwork—pieces of rope seemed twisted around crank and
shaft, mud was laid thickly on boiler and pipes, little jets
and spirts of steam had a disagreeable way of coming out
from places not supposed to be capable of such outpourings.
Her capacity for going on fire seemed to be very great;
each gust of wind sent showers of sparks from the furnaces
flying along the lower deck, the charred beams of which
attested the frequency of the occurrence. Alarmed at the
prospect of seeing my conveyance wrapped in flames, I
shouted vigorously for assistance, and will long remember
the look of surprise and pity with which the native regarded
me as he leisurely approached with the water-bucket and
cast its contents along the smoking deck.

I have already mentioned the tortuous course which the
Red River has wound for itself through these level northern
prairies. The windings of the river more than double the
length of its general direction, and the turns are so sharp
that after steaming a mile the traveller will often arrive at
a spot not one hundred yards distant from where he started.

Steaming thus for one day and one night down the Red
River of the North, enjoying no variation of scene or change
of prospect, but nevertheless enjoying beyond expression a
profound sense “of mingled rest and progression, I reached
at eight o’clock on the morning of the 20th of July the
frontier post of Pembina.

And here, at the verge of my destination, on the
boundary of the Red River Settlement, although making
but short delay myself, I must ask my readers to pause
awhile and to go back through long years into’ earlier times.
For it would ill suit the purpose of writer or of reader if the
latter were to be thus hastily introduced to the isolated
colony of Assincboine without any preliminary acquaintance
with its history or its inhabitants.

TUE GREAT LONE LAND. 105

CHAPTER VII.

Rerrosrective—Tue Norri-wesr Passace—Tue Bar or Hupson
—Rwat Crauts—Tue Oro Frency Fer Trape—Tus Nontu-
west Compaysy—How tue Harr-preeps came—Tue Hicu-
LANDERS DEFEATED—PRoGRESS—OLD Frtns.

We who have seen in our times the solution of the long-
hidden secret. worked out amidst the icy solitudes of the
Polar Seas cannot realize the excitement which for nigh
4.00 years vexed the minds of Europesn kings and peoples—
how they thought and toiled over this northern passage to
wild realms 6f Cathay and Hindostan—how from every port,
from the Adriatic to the Baltic, ships had sailed out in quest
‘of this ocean strait, to find in suceession portions of the great
world which Columbus had given to the human race.

Adventurous spirits were these early navigators who thus
fearlessly entered the great unknown oceans of the North in
craft scarce larger than canal-boats. And how long and
hoi tenaciously did they hold that some passage must exist
by which the Indies could be reached! Nota creek, not a
bay, but seemed to promise the long-sought-for opening to
the Pacific.

Hudson and Forbisher, Fox, Baffin, Davis, and James,
how little thought they of that vast continent whose
presence was but an obstacle in the path of their discovery!
Hudson had long perished in the ocean which bears his
name before it was known to be a ewl-de-sac. Two hun-
dred years had passed away from the time of Columbus ere

106 THE GREAT LONE LAND.

his dream of an open sea to the city of Quinsay in Cathay
had ceased to find believers. This immense inlet of Hud-
son Bay must lead to the Western Ocean. So, at least,
thought a host of bold navigators who steered their way
through fog and ice into the great Sea of Hudson, giving
those names to strait and bay and island, which we read in
our school-days upon great wall-hung maps and never
think or care about again. Nor were these antivipations of
reaching the East held only by the sailors,

La Salle, when he fitted out his expeditions from the
Island of Montreal for the West, named his point of depar-
ture ua Chine, so certain was he that his canoes would
eventually reach Cathay. And La Chine still exists to
attest his object. But those who went on into the great
continent, reaching the shores of vast lakes and the banks
of mighty rivers, learnt another and a truer story.
They saw these rivers flowing with vast volumes of
water from the north-west; and, standing on the brink of
their unknown waves, they rightly judged that such
rolling volumes of water must have their sources far away
in distant mountain ranges. Well might the great heart of
De Soto sink within him when, after long months of
arduous toil through swamp and forest, he stood at last on
the low shores of the Mississippi and beheld in thought the
enormous space which lay between him and the spot where
such a river had its birth.

The East—it was always the East. Columbus had said
the world was not go large as the common herd believed it,
and yet when he had inereased it by a continent he tried to
make it smaller than it really was. So fixed were men’s
minds upon the East, that it was long before they would

‘ think of turning to account the discoveries of those carly
navigators. But in time there came to the markets of

THE GREAT LONE LAND. 107

Europe the products of the New World. The gold and the
silver of Mexico and the rich sables of the frozen North
found their way into the marts of Western Europe. And
while Drake plundered galleons from the Spanish Main,
England and France commenced their career of rivalry for
the possession of that trade in furs and peltries which had
its sources round the icy shores of the Bay of Hudson. It
was reserved however for the fiery Prince Rupert to carry
into effect the idea of opening up the North-west through
the ocean of Hudson Bay.

Somewhere about 200 years ago a ship sailed away from
England bearing in it a company of adventurers seut out to
form 2 colony upon the southern shores of James’s Bay.
These men named the new land after the Prince who sent
them forth, and were the pioneers of that “ Hon. Company
of Adventurers from England trading into Hudson Bay.”

More than forty years previous to the date of the
charter by which Charles II. conferred the territory of
Rupert’s Land upon the London company, a similar grant
had been made by the French monarch, Louis XTIL., to
“ La Compagnie de la Nouvelle France.” Thus there had
arisen rival claims to the possession of this sterile region,
and although treaties had at various times attempted to
rectify boundaries or to rearrange watersheds, the question
of the right of Canada or of the Company to hold a portion
of the vast territory draining into Hudson Bay had never
been legully solved.

For some eighty years after this settlement on James’s Bay,
the Company held a precarious tenure of their forts and fac-
tories. Wild-lookingmen, more Indian than French, marched
from Canada overthe height of Jand and raided upon the posts
of Moose and Albany, burning the stockades and carrying
off the little brass howitzers mounted thereon. The same

108 THE GREAT LONE LAND.

wild-looking men, pushing on into the interior from Lake
Superior, made their way into Lake Winnipeg, up the
great Saskatchewan River, and across to the valley of the
Red River; building their forts for war and trade by distant
lake-shore and confiuence of river current, and drawing off
the valued trade in furs to France; until all of a sudden
there came the great blow struck by Wolfe under the walls
of Quebee, and every little far-away post and distant fort
throughout the vast interior continent felt the echoes of the
guns of Abraham. It might have been imagined that now,
when the power of France was crushed in the Canadas, the
trade which she had carried on with the Indian tribes of the
Far West would lapse to the English company trading into
Hudson Bay; but such was not the case.

Immediately upon the capitulation of Montreal, fur
traders from the English cities of Boston and Albany
appeared in Montreal and Quebec, and pushed their way
along the old French route to Lake Winnipeg and into
the valley of the Saskatchewan. There they, in turn,
erected their little posts and trading-stations, laid out their
beads and blankets, their strouds and eottons, and ex-
changed their long-carried goods for the beaver and marten
and fisher skins of the Nadow, Sioux, Kinistineau,
and Osinipoilles. Old maps of the North-west still mark
spots along the shores of Winnipeg and the Saskatchewan
with names of Henry’s House, Finlay’s House, and
Mackay’s House. These “ houses” were the trading-
posts of the first English free-traders, whose combination
in 1783 gave rise to the great North-west Fur Company,
so long the fierce rival of the Hudson Bay. To pieture
here the jealous rivalry which during forty years raged
throughout these immense territories would be to fill a
volume with tales of adventure and discovery.

THE GREAT LONE LAND. 109

The zeal with which the North-west Company pursued
the trade in furs quickly led to the exploration of the entire
country. A Mackenzie penetrated to the Arctic Ocean
down the immense river which bears his name—a Frazer
anda Thompson pierced the tremendous masses of the
Rocky Mountains and beheld the Pacific rolling its waters
against the rocks of New Caledonia. Based upon a system
which rewarded the efforts of its employés by giving them a
share in the profits of the trade, making them partners as
well as servants, the North-west Company soon put to sore
straits the older organization of the Hudson Bay. While
the heads of both companies were of the same nation, the
working men and toyageurs were of totally different races,
the Hudson Bay employing Highlanders and Orkney men

..from Scotland, and the North-west Company drawing its
recruits from the hardy French aditans of Lower Canada.
This difference of nationality deepened the strife between
them, and many a deed of cruelty and bloodshed lies buried
amidst the oblivion of that time in those distant regions.
The men who went out to the North-west as voyageurs and
servants in the employment of the rival companies from
Canada and from Scotland hardly ever returned to their
native lands. The wild roving life in the great prairie or
the trackless pine forest, the vast solifudes of inland lakes
and rivers, the chase, and the camp-fire had too much of
excitement in them to allow the voyageur to return again
to the narrow limits of civilization. Besides, he had taken
to himself an Indian wife, and although the ceremony by
which that was effected was frequently wanting in those
accessories of bell, book, and candle so essential to its proper
well-being, nevertheless the coyageur and his squaw got on
pretty well together, and little ones, who jabbered the
smallest amount of English or French, and a great deal of

110 THE GREAT LONE LAND.

Ojibbeway, or Cree, or Assineboine, began to multiply
around them.

Matters were in this state when, in 1812, as we have
already seen in an earlier chapter, the Earl of Selkirk, a
large proprietor of the Hudson Bay Company, conceived
the idea of planting a colony of Highlanders on the banks
of the Red River near the lake called Winnipeg. .

Some great magnate was intent on making a deer forest
in Scotland about the period that this country was holding
its own with diffieulty against Napoleon. So, leaving their
native parish of Kildonan in Sutherlandshire, these people
established another Kildonan in the very heart of North
America, in the midst of an immense and apparently
boundless prairie. Poor people! they had a hard time of
it—inundation and North-west Company hostility nearly
sweeping them off their prairie lands. Before long mat-
ters reached a climax. The North-west Canadians and
half-breeds sallied forth one day and attacked the settlers;
the settlers had a small guard in whose prowess they placed
much credence; the guard turned out after the usual manner
of soldiers, the half-breeds and Indians lay in the long
grass after the method of savages. For once the Indian
tacties prevailed. The Governor of the Hudson Bay
Company and the guard were shot down, the fort at Point
Douglas on the Red River was taken, and the Scotch
settlers driven out to the shores of Lake Winnipeg.

To keep the peace between the rival companies and the
two nationalities was no easy matter, but at Jast Lord Sel-
kirk came to the rescue; they were disbanding regiments
after the great peace of 1815, and portions of two foreign
corps, called De Muiron’s and De Watteville’s Regiments,
were induced to attempt an expedition to the Red River.

Starting in winter from the shores of Lake Superior,

THE GREAT LONE LAND. 111

these hardy fellows traversed the forests and frozen lakes
upon snow-shoes, and, entering from the Lake of the Woods,
suddenly appeared in the Selkirk Settlement, and took
possession of Fort Douglas.

£. few years later the great Fur Companies became
amalgamated, or rather the North-west ceased to exist, and
heneeforth the Hudson Bay Company ruled supreme from
the shores of the Atlantic to the frontiers of Russian
America.

From that date, 1822, the progress of the little colony
had been gradual but sure. Its numbers were constantly
inereased by the retired servants of the Hudson Bay
Company, who selected it as a place of settlement when
their period of active service had expired. Thither came
the royageur and the trader to spend the winter of their
lives in the little world of Assineboine. Thus the Selkirk
Settlement grew and flourished, caring little for the outside
earth—“ the world forgetting, by the world forgot.”

But the old feelings which had their rise in earlier years
never wholly died out. National rivalry still existed, and
it required no violent effort to fan the embers into flame
again. The descendants of the two nationalities dwelt
apart; there were the French parishes and the Scotch and
English parishes, and, although each nationality spoke the
sume mother tongue, still the spread of schools and
churches fostered the different languages of the fatherland,
and perpetuated the distinction of race which otherwise
would have disappeared by lapsing into savagery. In an
earlier chapter I have traced the events immediately pre-
ceding the breaking out of the insurrectionary movement
among the French half-breeds, and in the foregoing pages
I have tried to sketch the early life and history of the
country into which I am about to ask the reader to follow

112 THE UREAT LONE LAND.

me. Into the immediate sectional disputes and religious
animosities of the present movement it is not my intention
to enter; as I journey on an occasional arrow may be shot
to the right or to the left at men and things; but I will
leave to others the details of a petty provincial quarrel,
while I have before me, stretching far and wide, the vast
solitudes which await in silence the footfall of the future.

THE GREAT LONE LAND. 113

CHAPTER IX.

Ruysixc Te Gaunttet—Across tre Lrxe—MIscurer ateaD—
Preraratioys—A Nicur Maxcu—Tur Sreamer carreres—-Tur
Pursuit—Dayiient—Tne Lower Fort—Tue Rep May ar Last
—Tur Cuorer’s Sreecu—A Bio Ferep—MAakiInG READY FOR THE
Wisyrrec—A Detay—I vistr Fort Ganry—-Mr. Presmest Rie,
—Tne Fovat Startr—Lake Woairec—Tus First Nicur ovr—

My Crew.

Tne steamer “ International” made only a short delay at
the frontier post of Pembina,-but it was long enough to
impress the on-looker with a sense of dirt and debauchery,
which seemed to pervade the place. Some of the leading
citizens eame forth with hands stuck so deep in breeches’
pockets, that the shoulders seemed to have formed an offen-
sive and defensive allianee with the arms, never again to
permit the hands to emerge into daylight unless it should
be im the vicinity of the ancles.

Upon inquiring for the post-office, I was referred to the
postmaster himself, who, in his capacity of leading citizen,
was standing by. Asking if there were any letters lying
at his office for me, I was answered in a very curt negative,
the postmaster retiring immediately up the steep bank
towards the collection of huts which calls itself Pembina.
The boat soon cast off her moorings and steamed on into
British territory. We were at length within the limits of
the Red River Settlement, in the land of M. Louis Riel,
President, Dictator, Ugre, Saviour of Socicty, and New
Napoleon, as he was variously named by friends and foes

114 THE GREAT LONE LAND.

in the little tea-cup of Red River whose tempest had cast
him suddenly from dregs to surface. “I wasn’t so sure
that they wouldn’t have searched the boat for you,” said
the captain from his wheel-house on the roof-deck, soon
after we had passed the Hudson Bay Company’s post,
whereat M. Ricl’s frontier guard was supposed to hold
its head-quarters. “Now, darn me, if them whelps had
stopped the boat, but I’d have jist rounded her back to
Pembina and tied up under the American post yonder, and
claimed protection as an American citizen.” As the act of
tying up under the American post would in no way have
forwarded my movements, however consolatory it might
have proved to the wounded feelings of the captain, I was
glad that we had been permitted to proceed without moles-
tation. But I had in my possession a document which I
looked upon as an “open sesame” in case of obstruction
from any of the underlings of the Provisional Government.

This document had been banded to me by an eminent
ecclesiastie whom I met on the evening preceding my
departure at St. Paul, and who, upon hearing that it was
my intention to proceed to the Red River, had handed me,
unsolicited, a very useful notification.

So far, then, I had got within the outer circle of this so
jezlously protected settlement. The guard, whose presence
had so often been the theme of Manitoban journals, the
picquet line which extended from Pembina Mountain to
Lake of the Woods (150 miles), was nowhere visible, and
I began.to think that the whole thing was only a myth,
and that the Red River revolt was as unsubstantial as the
Spectre of the Brocken. But just then, as I stood on
the high roof of the “International,” from whence a wide
view was obtained, I saw across the level prairie outside
the huts of Pembina the figures of two horsemen riding at

JHE GREAT LONE LAND. 115

a rapid pace towards the north. They were on the road to
Fort Garry.

The long July day passed slowly away, and evening
began to darken over the level land, to find us still
steaming down the widening reaches of the Red River.

But the day had shown symptoms suflicient to convince
me that there was some reality after all in the stories of
detention and resistance, so frequently mentioned ; more
than once had the figures of the two horsemen been visible
from the roof-deck of the steamer, still keeping the Fort
Garry trail, and still foreing their horses at a gallop.

The windings of the river enabled these men to keep
ahead of the boat, a feat which, from their pace and manner,
seemed the object they had in view. But there were other
indications of difficulty lying ahead: an individual eon-
nected with the working of our boat had been informed by
persons at Pembina that my expected arrival bad been noti-
fied to Mr. President Ricl and the members of his trium-
virate, as I would learn to my cost upon arrival at Fort
Garry.

That there was mischief ahead appeared probable enough,
and it was with no pleasant feelings that when darkness
came I mentally surveyed the situation, and bethought me
of some plan by which to baffle those who sought my
detention.

In an hour’s time the boat would reach Fort Garry. I
was a stranger in a strange land, knowing not a feature
in the locality, and with only an imperfect map for my
guidance. Going down to my cabin, I spread out the map
before me. I saw the names of places familiar in imagi-
nation—the winding river, the junction of the Assineboine
and the Red River, and close to it Fort Garry and the
village of Winnipeg; then, twenty miles farther to the

1 2

116 TNE GREAT LONE LAND.

north, the Lower Fort Garry and the Scotch and English
Settlement. My object was to reach this lower fort; but
in that lay all the difficulty. The map showed plainly enough
the place in which safety lay ; but it showed no means by
which it could be reached, and left me, as before, to my own
resourees. These were not large.

My baggage was small and compact, but weighty; for
it had in it much shot and sporting gear for perspective
swamp and prairie work at wild duck and sharp-tailed
grouse. I carricd arms available against man and beast—
a Colt’s six-shooter and a fourteen-shot repeating carbine,
both light, good, and trusty; excellent weapons when
things came to a certain point, but useless before that
point is reached.

Now, amidst perplexing prospects and doubtful expe-
dients, one course appeared plainly prominent; and that
was—that there should be no capture by Riel. The bag-
gage and the sporting gear might go, but, for the rest, 1
was hound to carry myself and my arms, together with my
papers and a dog, to the Lower Fort and English Settle-
ment. Having decided on this course, I had not much
time to lose in putting it into execution. I packed my
things, loaded my arms, put some extra ammunition into
pocket, handed over my personal effects into the safe cus-
tody of the captain, and awaited whatever might turn up.

When these preparations were completed, I had still an
hour to spare. There happened to be on hoard the same
boat as passenger a gentleman whose English proclivities
had marked him during the late disturbances at Red River
as a dangerous opponent to M. Riel, and who consequently
had forfeited no small portion of his liberty and his chattels.
The last two days had made me aequainted with his history
and opinions, and, knowing that he could supply the want

THE GREAT LONE LAND. 117

I was most in need of—a horse—TI told him the plan I had
formed for evading M. Riel, in case his minions should
attempt my capture. This was to pass quickly from the
steamboat on its reaching the landing-place and to hold
my way across the country in the direction of the Lower
Fort, which I hoped to reach before daylight. If stopped,
there was but one course to pursue—to announce name and
profession, and trust to the Colt and sixteen-shooter for the
rest. My new acquaintance, however, advised a change of
programme, suggested by his knowledge of the locality.

At the point of junction of the Assineboine and Red
Rivers the steamer, he said, would touch the north shore.
The spot was only a couple of hundred yards distant from
Fort Garry, but it was sufficient in the darkness to conceal
any movement at that point; we would both leave the boat
and, passing by the flank of the fort, gain the village of
Winnipeg before the steamer would reach her landing-
place ; he would scek his home and, if possible, send a horse
to meet me at the first wooden bridge upon the road to the
Lower Fort. All this was simple enough, and supplied me
with that knowledge of the ground which I required.

It was now eleven o’clock p.m., dark but fine. With
my carbine concealed under a large coat, I took my station
near the bows of the boat, watching my companion’s move-
ments. Suddenly the steam was shut off, and the boat
began to round from the Red River into the narrow Assine-
boine: A short distance in front appeared lights and
figures moving to and fro along the shore—the lights
were those of Fort Garry, the figures those of Riel,
O’Donoghue, and Lepine, with a strong body of guards.

A second more, and the boat gently touched the soft
mud of the north shore. My friend jumped off to the
beach; dragging the pointer by chain and collar after me,

aly?

118 THE GREAT LONE LAND.

T, too, sprang to the shore just as the boat began to reeede
from it. As I did so, I saw my companion rushing up a
very steep and lufty bank. Much impeded by the arms
and dog, I followed him up the ascent and reached the top.
Around stretched a dead black Jevel plain, on the left the
fort, and figures were dimly visible about 200 yards away.
There was not much time to take in all this, for my com-
panion, whispering me to follow him clesely, commenced
te move quickly along an irregular path which led from
the river bank. In a short time we had reached the
vicinity of a few straggling houses whose white walls
showed distinctly through the darkness; this, he told me,
was Winnipes. Tere was his residence, and here we were
to separate. Giving me a few hurried directions for
further guidance, he pointed to the road befure me as a
starting-puint, and then vanished into the gloom. Fora
moment I stood at the entrance of the little village half-
irresolute what to do. One or two houses showed lights in
single windows, Lehind gleamed the lights of the steamer
which had now reached the place of landing. I commenced
to walk quickly through the silent houses.

As I emerged from the farther side of the village I saw,
standing on the centre of the road, a solitary figure.
Approaching nearer to him, I found that he occupied a
narrow wooden bridge which opened out upon the prairie.
To pause or hesitate would only be to excite suspicion in
the mind of this man, sentinel or guard, as he might be.
So, at a sharp pace, I advanced towards him. He never
moved; and without word or sign I passed him at arm’s
length. But here the dog, which I had unfastened when
parting from my companion, strayed away, and, being loth
to lose him, I stopped at the farther end of the bridge to
call him back. This was evidently the bridge of which my

THE GREAT LONE LAND. 119

companion had spoken, as the place where I was to await
the horse he would send me.

The trysting-place seemed to be but ifl-chosen—close to
the village, and already in possession of'a sentinel, it would
not do. “If the horse comes,” thought I, “ he will be too
late; if he does not come, there can be no use in waiting,”
so, giving a last whistle for the dog (which I never saw
again), I turned and held my way into the dark level plain
lying mistily spread around me. For more than an
hour I walked hard along a black-clay track bordered on
both sides by prairie. I saw no one, and heard nothing
save the barking of some stray dogs away to my right.

During this time the moon, now at its last quarter,
rose above trees to the east, and enabled me better to
discerr the general features of the country through which
Iwas passing. nother hour passed, and still I held on
my way. I had said to myself that for three hours I
must keep up the same rapid stride without pause or halt.
In the meantime I was caleulating for emergencies. If
followed on horseback, I must become aware of the fact
while yet my enemies were some distance away. The
black capdte flung on the road would have arrested
their attention, the enclosed fields on the right of the track
would afford me concealment, a few shots from the fourtcen-~
shooter fired in the direction of the party, already partly
dismounted deliberating over the mysterious capéte, would
have occasioned a violent demoralization, probably causing
a rapid retreat upon Fort Garry, darkness would have mul-
tiplied numbers, and a fourteen-shooter by day or night
is a weapon of very equalizing tendencies.

When the three hours had elapsed I looked anxiously
around for water, as I was thirsty in the extreme.

A creek soon gave me the drink I thirsted for, and, once

120 THE GREAT LUNE LAND.

more refreshed, I kept on my loncly way beneath -the
waning moon. At the time when I was searching for
water along the bettom of the Middle Creek my pursuers
were close at hand—probably not five minutes distant—
but in those things it is the minutes which make all the
difference one way or the other.

We must now go back and join the pursuit, just to sce
what the followers of M. Riel were about.

Sometime during the afternoon preceding the arrival of
the steamer at Fort Garry, news had come down by mounted
express from Pembina, that a stranger was about to make
his entrance into Red River.

Who he might be was not clearly descernible ; some said
he was an officer in Her Majesty’s Service, and others, that
he was somebody connected with the disturbances of the
preceding winter who was attempting to revisit the settle-
ment. .

Whoever he was, it was unanimously decreed that he
should be captured; and a call was made by M. Riel for
“men not afraid to fight ” who would proceed up the river
to mect the steamer. Upon after-reflection, however, it was
resolved to await the arrival of the boat, and, by capturing
captain, crew, and passengers, secure the person of the
mysterious stranger.

Accordingly, when the “ International” reached the Jand-
ing-place beneath the walls of Fort Garry a strange scene
was enacted.

Messrs. Riel, Lepinc, and O’Donoghue, surrounded by
a hody-guard of half-breeds and a few American adventurers,
appeared upon the landing-place. A select detachment, 1
presume, of the “men not afraid to fight” boarded the
boat and commenced to ransack ber from stem to stern.
While the confusion was at its height, and doors, &e., were

THE GREAT LONE LAND. 121

Leing broken open, it beeame known to some of the
searchers that two persons had left the boat only a few
minutes previously. The rage of the petty Napoleon be-
came excessive, he sacréed and stamped and swore, he
ordered pursuit on foot and on horseback; and altogether
conducted himself after the manner of rum-drunkenness and
despotism based upon ignorance and “straight drinks.”

All sorts of persons were made prisoners upon the spot.
My poor companion was siezed in his house twenty minutes
after he had reached it, and, being hurried to the boat, was
thredtened with instant hanging. Where had the stranger
gone to? and who was he? We had asserted himself tu
belong to Her Majesty’s Service, and he had gone to the
Lower Fort.

« After him!’ screamed the President; “bring him in
dead or alive.”

So some half-dozen men, half-breeds and American fili-
busters, started out in pursuit. It was averred that the
man who left the boat was of colossal proportions, that he
earried arms of novel and terrible construction, and, more
mysterious still, that he was closely followed by a gigantic
dog.

People shuddered as they listencd to this part of the
story—a dog of- gigantic size! What a picture, this im-
mense man and that immense dog stalking through the
gloom-wrapped prairie, goodness knows where! Was it to
be wondered at, that the pursuit, vigorously though it com-
menced, should have waned faint as it reached the dusky
praizie and left behind the neighbourhood and the babita-
tions ofmen? The party, under the leadership of Lepine the
Adjutant-general,” was scen at one period of its progress
besides the moments of starting and return.

Just previous to daybreak it halted at a house known by

122 THE GREAT LONE LAND.

the suggestive title of Whisky Tom’s,” eight miles from
the village of Winnipeg ; whether it ever got farther on its
wuy remains a mystery, but I am inclined to think that the
many attractions of Mr. Tom’s residence, as evinced by the
prefix to his name, must have proved u powerful obstacle to
such thirsty souls.

Daylight breaks early in the month of July, and I had
heen hut little more than three hours on the march when
the first sign of dawn began to glimmer above the tree-
tops of the Red River. When the light became strong
enough to afford a clear view of the country, I found that I
was walking along a road or track of very black soil with
poplar groves at intervals on each side.

Through openings in these poplar groves I beheld a row
of houses built apparently along the bank of the river, and
soon the steeple of a church and a comfortable-looking glebe
became visible about a quarter of a mile to the right. Caleu-
lating by my watch, I concluded that I must be some six-
teen miles distant from Fort Garry, and therefore not more
than four miles from the Lower Fort. However, as it was
now quite light, I thought I could not do better than ap-
proach the comfortable-looking glebe with a double view
towards refreshment and informution. I reached the gate
and, having run the gauntlet of an evily-intentioned dog,
pulled a bell at the door.

Now it had never occurred to me that my outward
appearance savoured not a little of the bandit~a poet has
written about “the dark Suliote, in his shaggy capdte,’
Xe., conveying the idea ofa very ferocions-looking fellow—
bat I believe that my appearance fully realized the descrip-
tion, as far as outward semblance was concerned; so,
evidently, thought the worthy clergyman when, cautiously
approaching his hall-door, he beheld through the glass

THE GREAT LUNE LAND. 123

window the person whose reiterated ringing had summoned
him hastily from his early slumbers. Half opening his
door, he inquired my business.

* Wow far,” asked L, “to the Lower Fort?”

* About four miles.”

« Any conveyance thither?”

“None whatever.”

He was about to close the door in my fuce, when I in-
quired his country, and he replied,—

“Tam English.”

“ And Tam an English officer, arrived last night in the
Red River, and now making my way to the Lower Fort.”

Had my appearance been ten times more disreputable
than it was—~had I carried a mitrailleuse instead of a
fourteen-shooter, I would have been still received with open
arms after that piece of information was given and received.
The door opened very wide and the worthy clergyman’s
hand shut very close. Then suddenly there became appa-
rent many facilities for reaching the Lower Fort not before
visible, nor was the hour deemed too carly to preclude all
thoughts of refreshment.

It was some time before my host could exactly realize
the state of affairs, but when he did, his horse and buggy
were soon in readiness, and driving along the narrow road
which here Jed almost uninterruptedly through little clumps
and thickets of poplars, we reached the Lower Fort Garry
not very long after the sun had begun his morning work
of making gold the forest summits. I had run the gauntlet
of the lower settlement; I was between the Expedition
and its destination, and it was time to lie down and rest.

Up to this time no intimation had reached the Lower
Fort of pursuit by the myrmidons of M. Riel. But soon
there came intelligence. A farmer carrying corn to the

124 THE GREAT LONE LAND.

mill in the fort had been stopped by a party of men
some seven miles away, and questioned as to his having
seen a stranger; others had also seen the mounted scouts.
And so while I slept the sleep of the tired my worthy host
was receiving all manner of information regarding the
movements of the marauders who were in quest of his
sleeping guest.

I may have been asleep some two hours, when I became
aware of a hand laid on my shoulder and a voice whisper-
ing something into my car. Rousing myself from a very
deep sleep, I beheld the Hudson Bay officer in charge of
the fort standing by the bed repeating words which failed
at first to carry any meaning along with them.

“The French are after you,” he reiterated.

“The French”—where was I, in France ?

I had been so sound asleep, that it took some seconds to
gather up the different threads of thought where I had left
them off a few hours before, and “ the French ” was at that
time altogether a new name in my ears for the Red River
natives. “The French are after you!” altogether it was not
an agreeable prospect to open my eyes upon, tired, exhausted,
and sleepy as I was. But, under the cireumstances, break~-
fast scemed the best preparation for the siege, assault, and
general battery which, according to all the rules of war,
ought to have followed the announcement of the Gallie
Nationality being in full pursuit of me.

Seated at breakfast, and doing full justice to a very ex-
ecient mutton chop and cup of Hudson Bay Company
Souchong (and where does there exist such tea, out of
China?), I heard a digest of the pursuit from the lips
of my host. The French had visited him in his fort
once before with evil intentions, and they might come
again, so he proposed that we should drive down to

THE GREAT LONE LAND. 125

the Indian Settlement, where the ever-faithful Ojibbeways
would, if necessary, roll back the tide of Gallie pursuit,
giving the pursuers a reception in which Puhaouza-tau-ka,
or “The Great Scalp-taker,” would play a prominent
part.

Breakfast over, a drive of eight miles brought us to the
mission of the Indian Settlement presided over by Arch-
deacon Cowley.

Here, along the Jast few miles of the Red River ere it
seeks, through many channels, the waters of Lake Winnipeg,
dwell the remnants of the tribes whose fathers in times
gone by claimed the broad Jands of the Red River;
now clothing themselves, after the fashion of the white
man, in garments and in religion, and learning a few of
his ways and dealings, but still with many wistful hanker-
ings towards the older era of the paint and feathers, of the
medicine Lag and the dream omen.

Poor red man of the great North-west, I am at last in
your land! Long as I have been hearing of you and your
wild doings, it is only here that I have reached you on
the confines of the far-stretching Winnipeg. It is no
easy task to find you now, for one has to travel far into
the lone spaces of the Continent before the smoke of your
wigwam or of your tepie blurs the evening air.

But heneeforth we will be companions for many months,
and through many varied scenes, for my path lies amidst
the lone spaces which are still your own; by the rushing
rapids where you spear the great “namha” (sturgeon)
will we light the evening fire and lie down to rest, lulled
by the ceaseless thunder of the torrent; the lone lake-
shore will give us rest for the midday meal, and from your
frail canoe, lying like a sea-gull on the wave, we will get
the “mecuhaga ” (the blucberry) and the “ wa-wa,” (the

126 SHE GREAT LONE LANT.

goose) giving you the great medicine of the white man,
the thé and suga in exchange. But I anticipate.

On the morning following my arrival at the mission
house a strange sound greeted my cars as I arose. Look-
ing through the window, I beheld for the lirst time the
red man in his glory.

Filing along the outside road came some two hundred
of the warriors and braves of the Ojibbeways, intent upon
all manner of rejoicing. At their head marched Chief
Henry Prince, Chief “ Kechiwis” (or the Big Apron)
“Sou Souse” (or Little Long Ears); there was also
* We-we-tak-gum Na-gash ” (or the Man who flies round
the Feathers), and Pahaouza-tau-ka, if not present, was repre-
sented by at least a dozen individuals just as fully qualified
to separate the membrane from the top of the head as was
that most renowned scalp-taker.

Wheeling into the grass-plot in front of the mission
house, the whole body advanced towards the door shouting,
“ Vo, ho!” and firmg off their flint trading-guns in token
of weleome. The chiefs and old men advancing to- the
front, seated themselves on the ground in a semi-circle,
while the young men and braves remained standmg or
lying on the ground farther back in two deep lines. In front
of all stood Henry Prince the son of Pequis, Chief of the
Swampy tribe, attended by his interpreter and pipe-bearer.

My appearance upon the door-step was the signal for a
barst of deep and long-rolling “Ho, ho’s,’ and then the
ceremony commenccd. There was no dance or “ pow-
’ it meant business at once. Striking his hand
upon his breast the chief began; as he finished each
sentence the interpreter took up the thread, explaining
with difficulty the long rolling words of the Indian.

“You see here,” he said, “the most faithful children of

wow ;’

THE GREAT LONE LAND. 127

the Great Mother; they have heard that you have come
from the great chief who is bringing thither his warriors
from the Kitchi-gami” (Lake Superior), “and they have
come to bid you welcome, and to place between you and
the enemies of the Great Mother their guns and their
lives. But these children are sorely puzzled; they know
not what todo. They have gathered in from the East, and
the North, and the West, because bad men have risen their
hands against the Great Mother and robbed her goods
and killed her sons and put a strange flag over her fort.
And these bad men are now living in plenty on what they
have robbed, and the faithful children of the Great Mother
are starving and very poor, and they wish to know what
they are to do. It is said that a great chief is commg
across from the big sea-water with many mighty braves
and warriors, and much goods and presents for the Indians.
But though we have watched long for him, the, luke is
still clear of his canoes, and we begin to think he is not
coming at all; therefore we were glad when we were told
that you had come, for now you will tell us what we are
to do and what message the great Ogima has sent to
the red children of the Great Mother.”

The speech ended, a decp and prolonged “ Ho!”—a sort
-of universal “thems our sentiments”—ran round the
painted throng of warriors, and then they awaited my
answer, each looking with stolid indifference straight
before him.

My reply was couched in as few words as possible. “It
was true what they had heard. The big chief was coming
across from the Kitchi-gami at the head of many warriors.
The arm of the Great Mother was a long one, and stretched
far over seas and forests; let them keep quiet, and when
the chief would arrive, he would give them store of pre-

128 THE GREAT LONE LAND.

sents and supplies; he would reward them for their good
behaviour. Bad men had set themselves against the Great
Mother ; but the Great Mother would feel angry if any of
her red children moved against these men. The big chief
would soon be with them, and all would be made right.
As for myself, I was now on my way to meet the big
chief and his warriors, and I would say to him how true
had been the red children, and he would be made glad
thereat. Meantime, they should have a present of tea,
tobacco, flour, and pemmican ; and with full stomachs their
hearts would feel fuller still.”

A universal “ Ho!” testified that the speech was good ;
and then the ceremony of hand-shaking began. I inti-

“mated, however, that time would only permit of my having
that honour with a few of the large assembly—in fact, with
the leaders and old men of the tribe.

Thus, in turns, I grasped the bony hands of the “ Red
Deer” and the “Big Apron,” of the “ Old Englishman ”’
and the “ Long Claws,” and the “ Big Bird ;? and, with
the same “ Ho, ho!” and shot-firing, they filed away as
they had come, carrying with them my order upon the
Lower Fort for one big feed and one long pipe, and, I dare
say, many blissful visions of that life the red man ever
loves to live—the life that never does come to him—the
future of plenty and of ease.

Meantime, my preparations for departure, aided by my
friends at the mission, had gone on apace. I had gota
canoe and five stout English half-breeds, blankets, pemmi-
can, tea, flour, and biseuit. All were being made ready, and
the Indian Settlement was alive with excitement on the
subject of the coming man—now no longer a myth—in
relation to a general millennium of unlimited pemmican

_ and tobacco.

THE GREAT LONE LAND. 129

But just when all preparations had been made complete
an unexpected event oceurred which postponed for a time
the date of my departure; this was the arrival of a very
urgent message from the Upper Fort, with an invitation to
visit that place before quitting the settlement. There had
heen an error in the proecedings on the night of my arrival,
T was told, and, acting under a mistake, pursuit had been
organized. Gs fat excitement existedamongst the Freneh half
breeds, who were in reality most loyally disposed ; it was qnite
a mistake to’ imagine that there was any thing approach-
ing to treason in the designs of the Provisional Government
—and much more to the same effect. It is needless now
to enter into the question of how much all this was worth :
at that time so much conflicting testimony was not easily
reduced into proper limits. But on three points, at all
events, I eduld form a correct opinion for myself. Had not
my companion been arrested and threatened with instant
death 2 Was he not still kept in confinement? and had
not my baggage undergone confiscation (it is a new name
for an old thing) ? And was there nota flag other than the
Union Jack flying over Fort Garry? Yes, it was true; all
these things were realities.

Then I replied, “ While these things remain, I will not
visit Fort Garry.”

Then I was told that Colonel Wolseley had written,

urging the construction of a road between Fort Garry and
Lake of the Woods, and that it could not be done unless I
visited the upper settlement.

T felt a wish, and a very strong one, to visit this upper
Fort Garry and see for myself its chief and its garrison, if
the thing could be managed in any possible way.

From many sources I was advised that it would be
dangerous to do so; but those who tendered this counsel

130 THE GREAT LONE LAND.

had in a manner grown old under the despotism of M. Riel,
and had, moreover, begun to doubt that the expedi-
tionary force would ever succeed in overcoming the terri-
‘ble obstacles of the long route from Lake Superior. I
knew better. Of Riel I knew nothing, or next to no-
thing; of the progress of the expeditionary force, I knew
only that it was led by a man who regarded impossibilities
merely in the light of obstacles to be cleared from his path ;
and that it was composed of soldiers who, thus led, would
go any where, and do any thing, that men im any shape of
savagery or of civilization ean do or dare. And although
no tidings. had reached me of its having passed the rugged
portage from the shore of Lake Superior to the height
of land and launched itself fairly on the waters which
flow from thence into Lake Winnipeg, still its ultimate
approach never gave me one doubtful thought. I reckoned
much on the Bishop’s letter, which I had still in my
possession, and on the influence which his last com-
munication to the “President” would of necessity exer-
cise; so I decided to visit Fort Garry, upon the con-
ditions that my baggage was restored intact, Mr. Dreever
set at liberty, and the nondescript flag taken down.
My interviewer said he could promise the first two pro-
positions, but of the third he was not so certain. He would,
however, despatch a message to me with full information as
to how they had been received. I gave him until five o’elock
the following evening, at which hour, if his messenger had
not appeared, I was to start for the Winnipeg River, ex
route for the Expedition.

Five o’clock came on the following day, and no messen-
ger. Every thing was in readiness for my: departure: the
canoe, freshly pitched, was declared fit for the Winnipeg
itself ; the provisions were all ready to be put on board at a

THE GREAT LONE LAND. 131

moment’s notice. I gave half an hour’s law, and that de-
lay brought the messenger; so, putting off my intention
of starting, I turned my face back towards Fort Garry.
My former interviewer had sent me a letter; all was as I
wished—Mr. Dreever had been set at liberty, my baggage
given up, and he would expect me on the following
morning.

The Indians were in a terrible state of commotion over my
going. One of their chief medicine-men, an old Swampy
named Bear, laboured long and earnestly to convince me
that Riel had got on what he called “the track of blood,’
the devil’s track, and that he could not get off of it. This
curious proposition he endeavoured to illustrate by means of
three small pegs of wood, which he set up on the ground.
One represented Riel, another his Satanic Majesty, while the
third was supposed to indicate myself.

He moved these three pegs about very much after the
fashion of a thimble-rigger ; and I seemed to have, through
my peg, about as bad a time of it as the pea under the
thimble usually experiences. Upon the most conclusive
testimony, Bear proceeded to show that I hadn’t a chance
between Riel and the devil, who, according to an equally
clear demon-stration, were about as bad as bad could be.
I had to admit a total inability to follow Bear in the rea-
soning which led to his deductions; but that only proved
that I was not a “medicine-man,” and knew nothing
whatever of the peg theory.

So, despite of the evil deductions drawn by Bear from
the three pegs, I set out for Fort Garry, and, journeying
along the same road which I had travelled two nights pre-
viously, I arrived in sight of the village of Winnipeg
before midday on the 23rd of July. At a little distance
from the village rose the roof and flag-staffs of Fort Garry,

K 2

132 ‘TLE GREAT LONE LAND.

and around in unbroken verdure stretched the prairie lands
of Red River.

Passing from the village alng the walls of the fort, I
crossed the Assineboine River aud saw the “ International”
lying at her moorings below the floating bridge. The
captam bad been liberated, and waved his hand with a
cheer as I crossed the bridge. The gate of the fort stood
open, a sentry was Jeaning lazily against the wall, a portion
of which Jeant in turn against nothing. The whole exterior
of the place looked old and dirty. The muzzles of one or
two guns protruding through the embrasures in the flanking
bastions failed even to convey the idea of fort or fortress
to the mind of the beholder.

Returning from the east or St. Boniface side of the
Red River, I was conducted by my companion into the
fort. His private residence was situated within the walls,
and to it we proceeded. Upon entering the gate I took in
at a glanee the surroundings—ranged in a semi-circle with
their muzzles all pointing towards the entrance, stood some
six or eight field-pieces; on cach side and in front were
bare looking, white-washed buildings. The ground and
the houses looked equally dirty, and the whole aspect of the
place was desolate and ruinous.

A few ragged-looking dusky men with rusty firclocks,
and still more rusty bayonets, stood lounging about. We
drove through without stopping and drew up at the door of
my companion’s house, which was situated at the rear of
the buildings I have spoken of. From the two flag-staffs flew
two flags, one the Union Jack in shreds and tatters, the
other a well-kept bit of bunting having the fleur-de-lis
and a shamrock on a white field. Once in the house, my
companion asked me if I would see Mr. Riel.

“To call on him, certainly not,” was my reply.

THE GREAT LONE LAND. 133

But if he calls on you?”

“Then I will see him,” replied I.

The gentleman who had spoken thus soon left the room.
There stood in the centre of the apartment a small billiard
tuble, I took up a cue and commenced a game with the
only other occupant of the room—the same individual who
had on the previous evening acted as messenger to the
Indian Settlement. We had played some half a dozen
strokes when the door opened, and my friend returned.
Following him closely came a short stout man with a
large head, a sallow, puffy face, a sharp, restless, intelli-
gent eye, a square-cut massive forehead overhung by a mass
of Jong and thickly clustering hair, and marked with well-
cut eycbrows—altogether, a remarkable-looking face, all the
more so, perhaps, because it was to be seen in a land where
such things are rare sights.

This was M. Louis Riel, the head and front of the Red
River Rebellion—the President, the little Napoleon, the
Ogre, or whatever else he may be called. He was dressed
in a curious mixture of clothing—a black frock-coat, vest,
and trousers; but the effect of this somewhat clerical cos-
tume was not a little marred by a pair of Indian mocassins,
which nowhere look more out of place than on a carpeted
floor.

M. Riel advanced to me, and we shook hands with all
that empressement so characteristic of hand-shaking on the
American Continent. Then there came a pause. My com-
panion had laid his eue down. I still retained mine in my
hands, and, more as a means of bridging the awkward gulf
of silence which followed the introduction, I asked him to
continue the game—another stroke or two, and the mocas-
sined President began to move nervously about the window
recess. To relieve his burthened feelings, I inquired if he

134 THE GREAT LUNE LAND.

ever indulged in billiards ; a rather laconic “ Never,” was
his reply.

“ Quite a loss,” I answered, making an absurd stroke
across the table; “a capital game.”

I had searcely uttered this profound sentiment when I
beheld the President moving hastily towards the door,
muttering as he went, “I see I am intruding here.” There
was hardly time to say, “ Not at all,” when he vanished.

But my companion was too quick for him; going out
into the hall, he brought him back once more into the
room, called away my billiard opponent, and left me alone
with the chosen of the people of the new nation.

Motioning M. Riel to be seated, I took a chair myself,
and the conversation began.

Speaking with difficulty, aud dwelling long upon his
words, Riel regretted that I should have shown such
distrust of him and his party as to prefer the Lower Fort
and the English Settlement to the Upper Fort and the
society of the French. I answered, that if such distrust
existed it was Justified by the rumours spread by his sym-
pathizers on the American frontier, who represented him
as making active preparations to resist the approaching
Expedition.

“ Nothing,” he said, “wzs more false than these state-
ments. I only wish to retain power until I can resign it
to a proper Government. I have done every thing for the
sake of peace, and to prevent bloodshed amongst: the people
ofthisland. Butthey will find,” he added passionately, “they
will find, if they try, these people here, to put me out—they
will find they cannot do it. I will keep what is mine until
the proper Government arrives ;” as he spoke he got up
from his chair and began to pace nervously about the room.

IT mentioned having met Bishop Taché in St. Paul and

THE GREAT LONE LAND. 135

the letter which I had received from him. He read it
attentively and commenced to speak about the Expedition.

* Had I come from it?”

No; I was going to it.”

He scemed surprised.

“ By the road to the Lake of the Woods ?”

“No; by the Winnipeg River,” I replied.

“Where was the Expedition ?”

I could not answer this question; but I concluded it
could not be very far from the Lake of the Woods.

* Was it a large foree ?””

I told him exactly, setting the limits as low as possible,
not to deter him from fighting if such was his intention.
The question uppermost in his mind was one of which he
did not speak, and he deserves the credit of his silence.
Amnesty or no amnesty was at that moment a matter of
very grave import to the French half-breeds, and to none so
much as to their leader. Yet he never asked if that pardon
was an event on which he could calculate.’ He did not even
allude to it at all.

At one time, when speaking of the efforts he had
made for the advantage of his country, he grew very
excited, walking hastily up and down the room with
theatrical attitudes and declamation, which he evidently
fancied had the effect of imposing on his listener ; but, alas!
for the vanity of man, it only made him appear ridiculous;
the mocassins sadly marred the exhibition of presidential
power.

An Indian speaking with the solemn gravity of his race
looks right manful enough, as with moose-clad leg his mo-
cassined feet rest on prairie grass or frozen snow-drift; but
this picture of the black-coated Metis playing the part of
Europe’s great soldier in the garb of a priest’ and the shoes

136 THE GREAT LUNE LAND.

of a savage, looked simply absurd. At length M. Riel ap-
peared to think he had enough of’ the interview, for stop-
ping in front of me he said,—

“ Wad I been your enemy you would have known it be-
fore. I heard you would not visit me, and, although I felt
humiliated, I came to sce you to show you my pacific inclina-
tions.”

Then darting quickly from the room he left me. An hour
later I left the dirty il-kept fort. The place was then full
of halt-breeds armed and unarmed. They said nothing and
did nothing, but simply stared as I drove by. I had seen
the inside of Fort Garry and its president, not at my
solicitation but at his own; and now before me lay the
solitudes of the foaming Winnipeg and the pathless waters
of great inland seas.

It was growing dusk when I reached the Lower Fort.
My canoe men stood ready, for the hour at which I was to have
joined them had passed, and they had begun to think some
mishap had befallen me. After a hasty supper and a farewell
to my kind host of the Lower Fort, I stepped into the frail
canoe of painted bark which lay restive on the swift current.
“ All right; away!” The crew, with paddles held high for
the first dip, gave a parting shout, and like an arrow from
its bow we shot out into the current. Overhead the stars
were beginning to brighten in the intense blue of the twi-
light heavens; far away to the north, where the river ran
between wooded shores, the luminous arch of the twilight
bow spanned the horizon, merging the northern constella-
tion into its soft hazy glow. Towards that north we held
our rapid way, while the shadows deepened on the shores
and the reflected stars grew brighter on the river.

We halted that night at the mission, resuming’ our vourse
at sunrise on the following morning. A few miles below

THE GREAT LONE LAND. 137

the mission stood the huts and birch-bark lodges of the
Indians. My men declared that it would be impossible to
pass without the ceremony of a visit. The chief had given
them orders on the subject, and all the Indians were expect-
ing it; so, paddling in to the shore, Ilanded and walked up
the pathway leading to the chief’s hut.

It was yet very early in the morning, and most of the
braves were lying asleep inside their wigwams, dogs and
papocses seeming to have matters pretty much their own
way outside.

The hut in which dwelt the son of Pequis was small, low,
and ill-ventilated. Opening the latched dvor I entered
stooping ; nor was there much room to extend oneself when
the interivr was attained.

The son of Pequis had not yet been aroused from his
morning’s slumber; the noise of my entrance, however, dis-
turbed him, and he guickly came forth from a small in-
terior den, rubbing his eyelids and gaping profusely. He
lovked sleepy all over, and was as much disconcerted as a
man usually is who has a visit of ceremony paid to him as
he is getting out of bed.

Prince, the son of Peyuis, essayed a speech, but I am
constrained to admit that taken altogether it was a miserable
failure. Action loses dignity when it 1s accompanied by
furtive attempts at buttoning nether garments, and not even
the eloquence of the Indian is proof against the generally
demoralized aspect of a man just out of bed. I felt that
some apolozy was due to the chief for this early visit ; but
I told him that being on my way to meet the great Ogima
whose braves were coming from the big sea water, I could
not pass the Indian camp without stopping to say good-bye.

Before any thing else could be said I shook Prince by the
hand and walked back towards the river.

138 THE GREAT LONE LAND.

By this time, however, the whole camp was thoroughly
aroused. From each lodge came forth warriors decked in
whatever garments could be most easily donned.

The chief gave a signal, and a hundred trading-guns were
held aloft and a hundred shots rang out on the morning
air. Again and again the salutes were repeated, the whole
tribe moving down to the water’s edge to see meoff. Put-
ting out into the middle of the river, I discharged my four-
teen shooter in the air in rapid succession ; a prolonged war-
whoop answered my salute, and paddling their very best, for
the eyes of the finest canoers in the world were upon them,
my men drove the little craft flying over the water until
the Indian village and its still firing braves were hidden
behind a river bend. Through many marsh-lined channels,
and amidst a vast sea of recds and rushes, the Red River of
the North secks the waters of Lake Winnipeg. A mixture
of land and water, of mud, and of the varied vegetation
which grows thereon, this delta of the Red River is, like
other spots of a similar description, inexplicably lonely.

The wind sighs over it, bending the tall reeds with
mournful rustle, and the wild bird passes and repasses with
plaintive ery over the rushes which form bis summer home.

Emerging from the sedges of the Red River, we shot out
into the waters of an immense lake, a lake which stretched
away Into unseen spaces, and over whose waters the fervid
July sun was playing strange freaks of mirage and inverted
shore Jand.

This was Lake Winnipeg, a great lake even on a con-
tinent where Jakes are inland seus. But vast as it is now,
it is only a tithe of what it must have been in the earlier
ages of the earth.

The capes und headlands of what once was a vast inland
sea now stand fur away frum the shores of Winnipeg.

THE GREAT LONE LAND. 139

Ilundreds of miles from its present limits these great
landmarks still look down on an ocean, but it is an ocean
of grass. The waters of Winnipeg have retired from their
feet, and they are now mountain ridges rising over seas of
verdure. At the bottom of this bygone lake lay the whole
valley of the Red River, the present Lakes Winnipegous
and Manitoba, and the prairie lands of the Lower Assine-
boine, 100,000 square miles of water. The water has long
sinee been drained off by the lowering of the rocky channels
leading to Hudson Bay, and the bed of the extinct luke
now forms the richest prairie land in the world.

But although Winnipeg has shrunken to a.tenth of its
original size, its rivers still remain worthy of the great
basin into which they once flowed. The Saskatchewan is
longer than the Danube, the Winnipeg has twice the
volume of the Rhine. 400,000 square miles of continent
shed their waters into Lake Winnipeg; a lake as changeful
as the ocean, but, fortunately for us, in its very calmest mood
to-day. Not a wave, not a ripple on its surface; not a
breath of breeze to aid the untiring paddles. The little
canoe, weighed down by men and provisions, had scarcely
three inches of its gunwale over the water, and yet the
steersman held his course far out into the glassy waste,
leaving behiad the marshy headlands which marked the
river’s mouth.

A long low point stretching from the south shore of the
lake was faintly visible on the horizon. It was past mid-
day when we reached it; so, putting in among the rocky
boulders which lined the shore, we lighted our fire and
cooked our dinner. Then, resuming our way, the Grande
Traverse was entered upon. Far away over the lake rose
the point of the Big Stone, a lonely cape whose perpen-
dicular front was raised high over the water. The sun

140 TOE GREAT LUNE LAND.

began to sink towards the west; but still not a breath
rippled the surface of the lake, not a sail moved over the
wide expanse, all was as lonely as though our tiny craft had
been the sole speck of life on the waters of the world.
The red sun sank into the lake, warning us that it was
time to seek the shore and make our beds for the night. A
deep sandy bay, with a high backing of woods and rocks,
seemed to invite us to its solitudes. Steering in with great
caution amid the rocks, we landed in this sheltered spot, and
drew our boat upon the sandy beach. The shore yielded
large store of drift-wood, the relies of many a northern
gale. Behind us lay a trackless forest ; in front the golden
glory of the Western sky. As the night shades deepened
around us and the red glare of our drift-wood fire cast its
light wpon the woods and the rocks, the scene became one
of rare beauty.

as Isat watching from a little distance this picture so
full of all the charms of the wild life of the coyageur and
the Indian, I little marvelled that the red child of the lakes
and the woods should be loth to quit such scenes for all the
luxuries of our civilization. Almost as I thought with pity
over his fate, seeing here the treasures of nature which were
his, there suddenly emerged from the forest two dusky
forms. They were Ojibbeways, who came to share our fire
and ourevening meal. The land was still their own. When
I Jay down to rest that night on the dry sandy shore, Ilong
watched the stars above me. As children sleep after a day
of toil und play, so slept the dusky men who lay around me.
It was my first night with these poor wild sons of the lone
spaces; it was strange and weird, and the lapping of the
mimic wave against the rocks close by failed to bring sleep
to my thinking eyes. Many a night afterwards I lay down
to sleep beside these men and their brethren—many a night

TIE GREAT LONE LAND. 141

by lake-shore, by torrent’s edge, and far out amidst the
measureless meadows of the West—but “custom stales”
even nature’s infinite variety, and through many wild
bivouacs my memory still wanders back to that first night
out by the shore of Lake Winnipeg.

At break of day we launched the canoe again and pur-
sned our course for the mouth of the Winnipeg River. The
lake which yesterday was all sunshine, to-day looked black
and overcast—thunder-clouds hung angrily around the
horizon, and it seemed as though Winnipeg was anxious
to give a sample of her rough ways before she had done
with us. While the morning was yet young we made a
portage—that is, we carried the canoe and its stores across
a neck of land, saving thereby a long paddle round a pro-
jecting cape. The portage was through a marshy tract
covered with long grass and rushes. While the men are
busily engaged in carrying across the boat and stores, J will
introduce them to the reader. They were four in number,
and were named as follows :—Joseph Monkman, cook and
interpreter; William Prince, fall Indian; Thomas Smith,
ditto; Thomas Hope, ei-decant schoolmaster, and now self.
constituted steersman. The three first were good men.
Prince, in particular, was a splendid canoe-man in dangerous
water. But Hope possessed the greatest capacity for eating
and talking of any man I ever met. He could devour
quantities of pemmican any number of times during the day,
and be hungry still. What he taught during the period
when he was schoolmaster J have never been able to find
out, but he was popularly supposed at the mission to be a
very good Christian. He had a marked disinclination to
hard or continued toil, although he would impress an on-
looker with a sense of unremitting exertion. This he
achieved by divesting himself of his shirt and using his

142 THE GREAT LONE LAND.

paddle, as Alp used his sword, “with right arm bare.” A
fifth Indian was added to the canoe soen after crossing the
portage.

A couple of Indian lodges stood on the shore along which
we were coasting. We put in towards these lodges to ask
information, and found them to belong to Samuel Hender-
son, full Swampy Indian. Samuel, who spoke excellent
English, at once volunteered to come with me as a guide to
the Winnipeg River; but I declined to engage him until I
had a report of his capability for the duty from the Hud-
son Bay officer in charge of Fort Alexander, a fort now
only a few miles distant. Samuel at once launched his
canoe, said “ Good-bye” to his wife and nine children, and
started after us for the fort, where, on the advice of the
officer, I finally engaged him.

THE CREAT LONE LAND. 143

CHAPTER X.

Toe Wissiree Rroer—Tue Osrerewar's Hocse—Rrsinxe «4 Rar
—A Caurp—No Tipixes or te Course Max— Hore ww Dancer
—Rat Portace—aA rar-rercusp Ispuxetox-—* Lire Pemmicay.”

We entered the mouth of the Winnipeg River at mid-
day and paddled up to Fort Alexander, which stands about a
mile from the river’s entrance. Here I made my final prepa-
rations for the ascent of the Winnipeg, getting a fresh canoe
better adapted for forcing the rapids, and at five o’clock in the
evening started on my journey up the river. Eight miles
above the fort the roar of a great fall of water sounded
through the twilight. In surge and spray and foaming
torrent the enormous volume of the Winnipeg was making
its last grand leap on its way to mingle its waters with the
lake. On the flat surface of an cnormous rock which stood
well out into the boiling water we made our fire and our
camp.

The pine-trees which gave the fall its name stood round
us, dark and solemn, waving their long arms to and fro
in the gusty winds that swept the valley. It was a
wild picture. The pine-trees standing in inky blackness—
the rushing water, white with foam—above, the rifted
thunder-clouds. Soon the lightning began to flash and the
voice of the thunder to sound above the roar of the cataract.
My Indians made me a rough shelter with cross-poles and .
a sail-cloth, and, huddling themselves together under the
upturned canoe, we slept regardless of the storm.

1444 TIE GREAT LONE LAND.

I was ninety miles from Fort Garry, and as yet. no tidings
of the Expedition.

A man may journey very far through the lone spaces of
the earth without meeting with another Winnipeg River. In
it nature has contrived to place her two great units of carth
and water In strange and wild combinations. To say that the
Winnipeg River has an immense volume of water, that it
deseends 360 feet in a distance of 160 miles, that it is
fall of eddies and whirlpools, of every variation of waterfall
from chutes to cataracts, that it expands into lonely pine-
cliffed Takes and far-reaching island-studded bays, that its
bed is cambered with immense wave-polished rocks, that
its vast solitudes are silent and its cascades ceaselessly
active—to say all this is but to tell in bare items of fact the
narrative of its beauty. For the Winnipeg by the multi-
plicity of its perils and the ever-changing beauty of its
character, defies the description of civilized tien ag it defies
the puny efforts of civilized travel. It seems part of the
savage—fitted alone for him and for his ways, useless to
carry the burden of man’s labour, but useful to shelter the
wild things of wood and water which dwell in its waves
and along its shores. And the red man who steers his little
bireh-bark canoe through the foaming rapids of the Winni-
peg, how well he knows its various ways! To him it seems
to possess life and instinet, he speaks of it as one would of
a high-mettled charger which will do any thing if he be
rightly handled. It gives him his test of superiority, his
proof of courage. To shoot the Otter Falls or the Rapids of
the Barriére, to carry his canoe down the whirling eddies
of Portage-de-l’Isle, to lift her from the rush of water at
the Seven Portages, or launch her by the edge of the whirl-
pool below the Chute-&-Jocko, all this is to be a brave and
a skilful Indian, for the man who can do all this must

THE GREAT LONE LAND. 145

possess a power in the sweep of his paddle, a quickness of
glance, and a quiet consciousness of skill, not to be found
except after generations of practice. For hundreds of years
the Indian has lived amidst these rapids; they have been
the playthings of his boyhood, the realities of his life, the
instinctive habit of his old age. What the horse is to the
Arab, what the dog is to the Esquimaux, what the camel
is to those who journey across Arabian deserts, so is the
eanoe to the Ojibbeway. Yonder wooded shore yields him
from first to last the materials he requires for its construc-
tion: cedar for the slender ribs, birch-bark to cover them,
juniper ¢ stitch together the separate pieces, red pine to
Bive reg tor the seams and erevices. By the lake or river
shore, east ig his wigwam, the boat is built ;

* And the forest life is in it—

All its mystery and its magic,

All the tightness of the birch-tree,

All the toughness of the cedar,

All the larch’s supple sinews.

And it floated on the river

Like a yellow leaf in autumn,

Like a yellow water lily.”
It is not a boat, it is a house; it ean be carried long dis-
tances over land from lake to lake. It is frail beyond werds,
yet you can load it down to the water’s edge; it carries the
Indian by day, it shelters him by night; in it he will steer
boldly out into a vast lake where iand is unseen, or paddle
through mud and swamp or reedy shallows; sitting in it, he
gathers his harvest of wild rice and catches his fish or
shoots his game; it will dash down a foaming rapid, brave
a fiercely-rushing torrent, or lie like a sea-bird on the placid
water.

For six months the canoe is the home of the Ojibbeway.
L

146 THE GREAT LONE LAND.

While the trees are green, while the waters dance and sparkle,
while the wild rice bends its graceful head in the lake and
the wild duck dwells amidst the rush-covered mere, the
Ojibbeway’s home is the birch-bark canoe. When the
winter comes and the lake and rivers harden beneath the
icy breath of the north wind, the canoe is put earefully
away; covered with branches and with snow, it lies through
the long dreary winter until the wild swan and the wavy,
passing northward to the polar seas, call it again from its
Jong icy sleep.

Such is the life of the canoe, and such the river along
which it rushes like an arrow.

The days that now commenced to pass were filled from
dawn to dark with moments of keenest enjoyment, every
thing was new and strange, and each hour brought with it
some fresh surprise of Indian skill or Indian scenery.

The sun would be just tipping the western shores with
his first rays when the canoe would be lifted from its ledge
of rock and laid gently on the water; then the blankets and _
kettles, the provisions and the guns would be placed in it,
and four Indians would take their seats, while one remained
on the shore to steady the bark upon the water and keep its
sides from contact with the rock ; then when I had taken my.
place in the centre, the outside manewould spring gently
in, and we would glide away from the rocky resting-place.
To tell the mere work of each day is no difficult matter: start -
at five o’clock a.m., halt for breakfast at seven o’clock, off
again at eight, halt at one o’clock for dinner, away at two
o’clock, paddle until sunset at 7.30; that was the work of
each day. But how shall I attempt to fill in the details of
scene and circumstance between these rough outlines of
time and toil, for almost at every hour of the long summer
day the great Winnipeg revealed some new phase of beanty

, id

eye
1
oe

4
ike

i
ath

Lainie

WORKIAG UP THE WENN,

THE GREAT LONE LAND. 147

and of peril, some changing scene of lonely grandeur? I
have already stated that the river in its course from the
Lake of the Woods to Lake Winnipeg, 160 miles, makes a
descent of 360) feet. This descent is effected not by a con-
tinuous decline, but by a series of terraces at various distances
from each other ; in other words, the river forms innumerable
lakes and wide expanding reaches bound together by rapids
and perpendicular falls of varying altitude, thus when the
coyageur has lifted his canoe from the foot of the Silver Falls
and launched it again above the head of that rapid, he will
have surmounted two-and-twenty feet of the ascent; again,
the dreaded Seven Portages will give him a total rise of sixty
feet in a distance of three miles. (How cold does the bare
narration of these facts appear beside their actual realization
in a small canoe manned by Indians!) Let us see if we
can picture one of these many scenes. There sounds ahead
a roar of falling water, and we see, upon rounding some
pine-clad island or ledge of rock, a tumbling mass of foam
and spray studded with projecting rocks and flanked by
dark wooded shores; above we can sce nothing, but
below the waters, maddened by their wild rush amidst the
rocks, surge and leap in angry whirlpools. It is as wild a
scene of crag and wood and water as the eye can gaze upon,
’ ‘but we look upon it not for its beauty; because there is no
time for that, but because it is an enemy that must be
conquered. Now mark how these Indians steal upon this
enemy before he is aware of it. The immense volume of
water, escaping from the eddies and whirlpools at the foot of
the fall, rushes on in a majestic sweep into calmer water ; this
rush produces along the shores of the river a counter or
back-current which flows up sometimes close to the foot of
the fall, along this back-water the canoe is carefully steered,
being often not six feet from the opposing rush in the
L 2

148 THE GREAT LONE LAND.

central river, but the back-current in turn ends in a whirl-
pool, and the canoe, if it followed this back-current, would
inevitably end in the same place; for a minute there is no
paddling, the bow paddle and the steersman alone keeping
the bout in her proper direction as she drifts rapidly up the
current. Amongst the crew not a word is spoken, but
every man knows what he has to do and will be ready
when the moment comes; and now the moment has come,
for on one side there foams along a mad surge of water,
and on the other the angry whirlpool twists and turns in
smooth green hollowing curves routid an axis of air, whirling
round it with a strength that would snap our birch bark
into fragments and suck us down into great depths below.
All that can be gained by the back-current has been gained,
and now it is time to quit it; but where? for there is often
only the choice of the whirlpool or the central river. Just
on the very edge of the eddy there is one loud shout given
by the bow paddle, and the canoe shoots full into the centre
of the boiling flood, driven by the united strength of the
entire crew-—the men work for their very lives, and the
boat breasts across the river .with ber head turned full to-
ward the falls; the waters foam and dash about her, the
waves leap high over the gunwale, the Indians shout as they
dip their paddles like lightning into the foam, and the
stranger to such a scene holds his breath amidst this war
of man against nature. Ha! the struggle is useless, they
cannot force her against such a torrent, we are close to the
rocks and the foam; but see, she is driven down by the
current in spite of those wild fast strokes. The dead
strength of such a rushing flood must prevail. Yes, it
is trae, the canoe has been driven back ; but behold, almost
in a second the whole thing is done—we float suddenly
beneath a little rocky isle on the foot of the cataract. We

JHE GREAT LONE LAND. 149

have crossed the river in the face of the full, and the portage-
landing is over this rock, while three yards out on either
side the torrent foams its headlong course. Of the skill
necessary to perform such things ‘t is useless to speak.
A single false stroke, and the whole thing would have
failed; driven headlong down the torrent, another attempt
would have to be made to gain this rock-protected spot, but
now we lie seeure here; spray all around us, for the rush of
the river is on either side and you ean touch it with an out-
stretched paddle. The Indians rest on their paddles and
laugh; their long hair has escaped from its fastening through
their exertion, and they retie it while they rest. One is
already standing upon the wet slippery rock holding the
canoe in its place, then the others get out. The freight is
carried up piece by piece and deposited on the flat surface
some ten feet above; that done, the canoe is lifted out very
gently, for a single blow against this hard granite boulder
would shiver and splinter the frail birch-bark covering ; they
raise her very carefully up the steep face of the cliff and
rest again on the top. What a view there is from this coigne
of vantage! We are on the lip of the fall, on each side it
makes its plunge, and below we mark at leisure the tor-
rent we have just braved; above,it is smooth water, and
away ahead we see the foam of another rapid. The rock on
which we stand has been worn smooth by the washing of
the water during countless ages, and from a cleft or fissure
there springs a pine-tree or a rustling aspen. We have
crossed the Petit Roches, and our course is onward still.
Through many scenes like this we held our way during
the last days of July. The weather was beautiful; now and
then a thunder-storm would roll along during the night,
but the morning sun rising clear and bright would almost
tempt one to believe that it had been a dream, if the pools

150 THE GREAT LONE LAND.

of water in the hollows of the rocks and the dampness of
Dianket or oil-cloth had not proved the sun a humbug. Our
general distanee each day would be about thirty-two miles,
with an average of six portages. At sunset we made our
camp on some rocky isle or shelving shore, one or two
cut wood, another got the cocking things ready, a fourth -
gummed the seams of the canoe, a fifth cut shavings from a
dry stick for the fire—for myself, I generally took a plunge in
the coul delicions water—and soon the supper hissed in the
pans, the kettle steamed from its suspending stick, and the
evening meal was eaten with appetites such as only the
coyageur can understand.

Then when the shadows of the night had fallen
around and all was silent, save the river’s tide against
the rocks, we would stretch our blankets on the springy
moss of the erag and lie down to sleep with only the stars
for a roof.

Happy, happy days were these—days the memory of
which goes very far into the future, growing brighter
as we journey farther away from them, for the scenes
through which our course was laid were such as speak in
whispers, ouly when we have left them—the whispers of the
pine-tree, the music of running water, the stillness of great
lonely lakes.

On the evening of the fifth day from leaving Fort Alex-
ander we reached the foot of the Rat Portage, the twenty-
seventh, and last, upon the Winnipeg River; above this
portage stretched the Lake of the Woods, which here poured
its waters through a deep rock-bound gorge with tremendous
force. During the five days we had only encountered two - -
solitary Indians; they knew nothing whatever about the
Expedition, and, after a short parley and a present of tea
and flour, we pushed on. About midday on the fourth day

THE GREAT LONE LAND. * 151

we halted at the Mission of the White Dog, a spot which
some more than heathen missionary had named Islington
in a moment of virtuous cockneyism. What could have
tempted him to commit this act of desecration it is needless
to ask.

Islington on the Winnipeg! O religious Gilpin, hadst
thou fallen a prey to savage Cannibalism, not even Sidney
Smith’s farewell aspiration would have saved the savage
who devoured you, you must have killed him.

The Mission of the White Dog had been the scene of
Thomas Hope’s most brilliant triumphs in the réle of
schoolmaster, and the youthful Ojibbeways of the place had
formerly belonged to the Zand of hope. For some days past
Thomas had been labouring under depression, his power of
devouring pemmican had, it is true, remained unimpaired,
but in one or two trying moments of toil, in rapids and
portages, he had been found miserably wanting ; he had, in
fact, shown many indications of utter usclessness; he had
also begun to entertain gloomy apprehensions of what the
French would do to him when they caught him on the
Lake of the Woods, and although he endeavoured fre-
quently to prove that under certain circumstances the
French would have no chance whatever against him, yet, as
these circumstances were from the nature of things never
likely to oceur, necessitating, in the first instance, a pre-
sumption that Thomas would show fight, he failed to convince
not only his hearers, but himself, that he was not in a very
bad way. At the White Dog Mission he was, so to speak,
on his own hearth, and was doubtless desirous of showing
me that his claims to the rank of interpreter were well
founded. No tidings whatever had reached the few huts of
the Indians at the White Dog; the women and children,
who now formed the sole inhabitants, went but little out of

152 THE GREAT LONE LAND.

the neighbourhood, and the men had been away for many
days in the forest, hunting and fishing. Thus, through the
whole course of the Winnipeg, from lake to lake, I could
glean no tale or tidings of the great Ogima or of his
myriad warriors, It was quite dark when we xeached, on
the evening of the 30th July, the northern edge of the Lake
of the Woods and paddled across its placid waters to the
Ifudson Bay Company’s post at the Rat Portage. An
arrival of a canoe with six strangers is no ordinary event
at one of these remote posts which the great fur company
have built at long intervals over their immense territory.
Out came the denizens of a few Indian lodges, out came the
people of the fort and the clerk in charge of it. My first
question was about the Expedition, but here, as elsewhere,
40 tidings had been heard of it. Other tidings were how-
ever forthcoming which struck terror into the heart of
Hope. Suspicious canoes had been seen for some days past
amongst the many islands of the jake; strange men had
come to the fort at night, and strange fires had been seen
on the islands—the French were out on the lake. The
officer in charge of the post was absent at the time of my
visit, but I had met him at Fort Alexander, and he had
anticipated my wants in a letter which I myself carried to
his son. I now determined to strain every effort to cross
with rapidity the Lake of the Woods and ascend the Rainy
River to the next post of the Company, Fort Francis,
distant from Rat Portage about 140 miles, for there I felt
sure that I must learn tidings of the Expedition and bring
my long solitary journey to a close. But the Lake of the
Woods is an immense sheet of water lying 1000 feet above
the sea level, and subject to violent gales which lash its
bosom into angry billows. To be detained upon some
island, sturm-bound amidst the lake, would never have

THE GREAT LONE LAND. 153

answered, so I ordered a large keeled boat to be got ready
by midday ; it only required a few trifling repairs of sail and
oars, but a great feast had to be gone through in which my
pemmican and flour were destined to play a very prominent
part. As the word pemmican is one which may figure
frequently in these pages, a few words explanatory of it may
be useful. Pemmican, the favourite food of the Indian and
the half-breed voyageur, can be made from the flesh of any
animal, but it is nearly altogether composed of buifalo meat ;
the meat is first cut into slices, then dried either by fire or in
the sun, and then pounded or beaten out into a thick flaky
substance ; in this state it is put into a large hag made from
the hide of the animal, the dry pulp being soldered down into
a hard solid mass by melted fat bemg poured over it—the
quantity of fat is nearly half the total weight, forty
pounds of fat going to fifty pounds of “ beat meat;” the
best pemmican generally has added to it ten pounds of
berries and sugar, the whole composition forming the most
solid description of food that man can make. Ifany person
should feel inclined toask, ‘‘ What does pemmican taste like?”
I can only reply, “ Like pemmican,” there is nothing else in
the world that bears to it the slightest resemblance. Can
I say any thing that will give the reader an idea of its
sufficing quality? Yes, I think I can. A dog that will
eat from four to six pounds of raw fisk a day when sleighing,
will only devour two pounds of pemmican, if he be fed
upon that food ; yet I have seen Indians and half-breeds eat
four pounds of it in a single day—but this is anticipating.
Pemmican can be prepared in many ways, and it is not
easy to decide which method is the least objectionable.
There is rubeiboo and richét, and pemmican plain and
pemmican raw, this last method being the one most in
vogue amongst voyayeurs ; but the richét, to me, seemed

154 THE GREAT LONE LAND.

the best; mixed with a little flour and fried in a pan,
pemmican in this form ean be eaten, provided the appe-
tite be sharp and there ‘s nothing else to be had—this last
consideration is, however, of importance.

wre

THE GREAT LONE LAND. 15

CHAPTER XI.

Tur Exrepitiox—Tar Lake or tne Woops—A Nicnt ALAR
A Cross Suave—Rary Rrer—A Nicur Pappie—Fort Francis
+A Meretixne—Tue OFFicer coMaxDING THE Exeeprrion—Tusz
Raxk ano Fire—Ture 60traq Reorres—A Wixpico—OseBeway
Bravery—Caxapiyn VoLunteErs.

TE feast having been concluded (I believe it had gone on
all night, and was protracted far into the morning), the
sails and oars were suddenly reported ready, and about
midday on the 3ist July we stood away from the Portage
du Rat into the Lake of the Woods. I had added
another man to my crew, which now numbered seven hands,
the last accession was a French half-breed, named Morris-
seau. Thomas Hope had possessed himself of a flint gun,
with which he was to do desperate things should we fall in
with the French scouts upon the lake. The boat in which
I now found myself was a large, roomy craft, capable of
carrying about three tons of freight; it had a single tall
mast carrying a large square lug-sail, and also possessed of
powerful sweeps, which were worked by the men in standing
positions, the rise of the oar after each:stroke making the
oarsman sink back upon the thwarts only to resume again
his upright attitude for the next dip of the heavy
sweep.

This is the regular Hudson Bay Mackinaw boat, used for
the carrying trade of the great Fur Company on every
river from the Bay of Hudson to the Polar Ocean. It looks

156 TUE GREAT LONE LAND.

a big, heavy, lumbering affair, but it can sail well before a
wind, and will do good work with the oars too.

That portion of the Lake of the Woods through which
we now steered our way was a perfect maze and network of
island and narrow channel; a light breeze from the north
favoured us, and we passed gently along the rocky islet
shores through unruffled water. In all directions there
opened out innumerable channels, some narrow and winding,
others straight and open, but all lying between shores
elothed with a rich and luxuriant vegetation; shores that
curved and twisted into mimic bays and tiny promontories,
that rose in rocky masses abruptly from the water, that
sloped down to meet the lake in gently swelling undulations,
that seemed, in fine, to present in the compass of a single
glance every varying feature of island scenery. Looking
through these rich Jabyrinths of tree and moss-covered.
rock, it was difficult to imagine that winter could ever
stamp its frozen image upon such a soft summer scene.
The air was balmy with the scented things which grow
profusely upon the islands; the water was warm, almost
tepid, and yet despite of this the winter frost would cover
the lake with five feet of ice, and the thick brushwood
of the islands would lie hidden during many months beneath
great depths of snow.

As we glided along through this beautiful scene the men
kept a sharp look-out for the suspicious craft whose presence
had caused such alarm at the Portage-du-Rit. We saw no
trace of man or canoe, and nothing broke the stillness of the
evening except the splask of a sturgeon in the lonely bays.
About sunset we put ashore upon a large rock for supper.
While it was being prepared I tried to count ‘the islands
around. From a projecting point I could see island upon
island to the number of over a hundred—the wild cherry, the

THE GREAT LONE LAND. 157

plum, the wild rose, the raspberry, intermixed with ferns and
messes in vast variety, covered every spot around me, and
from rock and crevice the pine and the poplar hung their
branches over the water. As the breeze still blew fitfully
from the north we again embarked and held our way
through the winding channels—at times these channels
would grow wider only again to close together; but there
was no current, and the large high sail moved us slowly
through the water. When it became dark a fire snddenly
appeared on an island some distance ahead. Thomas Hope
grasped his flint gun and seemed to think the supreme
moment had at length arrived. During the evening I could
tell by the gestures and looks of the men that the mys-
terious rovers formed the chief subject of conversation, and
our latest accession painted so vividly their various sus-
picious movements, that Thomas was more than ever con-
vineed his hour was at hand. Great then was the excite-
ment when the fire was observed upon the island, and
greater still when I told Samuel to steer full towardsit. As
we approached we could distinguish figures moving to and
fro between us and the bright flame, but when we had got
within a few hundred yards of the spot the light was sud-
denly extinguished, and the ledge of rock upon which it had
been burning became wrapped in darkness. We hailed, but
there was no reply. Whoever had been around the fire had
vanished through the trees ; launching their canoe upon the
other side of the island, they had paddled away through the
intricate labyrinth scared by our sudden appearance in
front of their lonely bivouac. This apparent confirmation
of his worst fears in no way served to reanimate the spirits
of Hope, and though shortly after he lay down with the
other men in the bottom of the boat, it was not without
misgivings as to the events which lay before him in the

158 THE GREAT LONE LAND.

darkness. One man only remained up to steer, for it was
my intention to run as long as the breeze, faint though it
was, lasted. I had been asleep about half an hour when I
felt my arm quickly pulled, and, looking up, beheld Samuel
bending over me, while with one hand he steered the boat.
** Were they are,” he whispered, “here they are.” I looked
over the gunwale and under the sail and beheld right on
the course we were steering two bright fires burning close
to the water’s edge. We were running down a channel
which seemed to narrow to a strait between two islands, and
presently a third fire came into view on the other side of the
strait, showing distinctly the narrow pass towards which
we were steering, it did not appear to be more than twenty
feet across it, and, from its exceeding narrowness and the
position of the fires, it seemed as though the place had really
been selected to dispute our outward passage. We were not
more than two hundred yards from the strait and the
breeze was holding well into it. What was to be done?
Samuel was for putting the helm up; but that would have
been useless, because we were already in the channel, and to
ran on shore would only place us still more in the power of
our enemies, if enemies they were, so I told him to hold his
course and run right through the narrow pass. The other
men had sprung quickly from their blankets, and Thomas
was the picture of terror. When he saw that I was about
to run the boat through the strait, he instantly made up his
mind to shape for himself a different course. Abandoning
his flmt musket to any body who would take it, he clam-
bered like a monkey on to the gunwale, with the evident
intention of dropping noiselessly into the water, and
secking, hy swimming on shore, a safety which he deemed
denied to him on board. Never shall I forget his face as
he was pulled back into the boat; nor is it easy to describe

THE GREAT LONE LAXD. 159

the sudden revulsion of feeling which possessed him when ‘a
dozen different fires breaking into view showed at once that
the forest was on fire, and that the imaginary bivouac of
the French was only the flames of burning brushwood.
Samuel laughed over his mistake, but Thomas looked on it
in no Jaughing light, and, seizing his gun, stoutly main-
tained that had it really been the French they would have
learnt a terrible lesson from the united volleys of the four-
teen-shooter and his flint musket.

The Lake of the Woods covers a very large extent of
country. In length it measures about seventy miles, and
its greatest breadth is about the same distance; its shores
are but little known, and it is only the Indian who can
steer with accuracy through its labyrinthine channels. In
its southern portion it spreads out into a vast expanse of
open water, the surface of which is lashed by tempests
into high-running seas. ;

In the early days of the French fur trade it yielded large
stores of beaver and of martens, but it has long ceased
to be rich in furs. Its shores and islands will be found
to abound in minerals whenever civilization reaches them.

Among the Indians the lake holds high place as the
favourite haunt of the Manitou. The strange water-worn
rocks, the islands of soft pipe-stone from which are cut the
bowls for many a calumet, the curious masses of ore resting
on the polished surface of rock, the islands struck yearly
by lightning, the islands which abound im lizards although
these reptiles are searce elsewhere~all these make the Lake
of the Woods a region abounding in Indian legend and
superstition. There are isles upon which he will not dare
to venture, because the evil spirit has chosen them; there
are promontories upon which offerings must be made to the
Manitou when the canoe drifts hy their lonely shores; and

160 THE GREAT LONE LAND.

there are spots watched over by the great Kennebie, or
Serpent, who is jealous of the treasures which they contain.
But all these things are too long to dwell upon now; I
must haste along my way.

On the second morning after leaving Rat Portage we
began to leave behind the thickly-studded islands and to
get out into the open waters. A thunder-storm had swept
the lake during the night, but the morning was calm, and
the ieavy sweeps were not able to make much way.
Suddenly, while we were halted for breakfast, the wind
veered round to the north-west and promised us a rapid
passage across the Grande Traverse to the mouth of Rainy
River. Embarking hastily, we set sail for a strait known as
the Grassy Portage, which the high stage of water in the
lake enabled us to run through without touching ground.
Beyond this strait there stretched away a vast expanse of
water over which the white-capped waves were running in
high billows from the west. It soon became so rough
that we had to take on board the small canoe which
I had brought with me from Rat Portage in case of
accident, and which was towing astern. On we swept over
the high-rolling billows with a double reef in the lug-sail.
Before us, far away, rose a rocky promontory, the extreme
point of which we had to weather in order to make the
mouth of Rainy River. Keeping the boat as close to the
wind as she would go, we reeled on over the tumbling seas.
Our lee-way was very great, and for some time it seemed

“doubtful if we would clear the point; as we neared it we

saw that there was a tremendous sea running against the
rock, the white sprays shooting far up into the air when
the rollers struck against it. The wind had now freshened
to a gale and the boat laboured much, constantly shipping
sprays. At last we were abreast of the rocks, close hauled,

THE GREAT LONE LAND. 161

and yet only a hundred yards from the breakers. Sud-
denly the wind veered a little, or the heavy swell which
was running caught us, for we began to drift quickly down
into the mass of breakers. The men were all huddled together
in the bottom of the boat, and for a moment or two nothing
could be done. “ Out with the sweeps!” I roared. All was
confusion ; the long sweeps got foul of each other, and for a
second every thing went wrong. At last three sweeps were
got to work, but they could do nothing against such a
sea. We were close to the rocks, so close that one began to
make preparations for doing something—one didn’t well
know what—when we should strike. Two more oars were
out, and for an instant we hung in suspense as to the result,
How they did pull! it was the old paddle-work forcing the
rapid again; andit told; inspite of wave and wind, we were
round the point, but it was only by a shade. An hour
later we were running through a vast expanse of marsh and
reeds into the mouth of Rainy River; the Lake of the
Woods was passed, and now before me lay cighty miles
of the Riviére-de-la-Pluie.

A friend of mine once, describing the scenery of the Falls
of the Cauvery in India, wrote that “ below the falls there was
an island round which there was water on every side :”’ this
mode of description, so very true and yet so very simple in
its character, may fairly be applied to Rainy River ; one may
safely say that it is a river, and that it has banks on either
side of it; if one adds that the banks are rich, fertile, and
well wood-d, the description will he complete—such was the
river up which I now steered to meet the Expedition. The
Expedition, where was it? An Indian whom we met on the
lake knew nothing about it; perhaps on the river we should
hear some tidings. About five miles from the mouth of
Rainy River there was a small out-station of the Hndson

162 THE GREAT LOSE LANG.

Bay Company kept by a man named Morrissean, a brother
of my boatman. As we approached this little post it was
announced to us by an Indian that Morrisseau had that
morning lost a child. It was a place so wretehed-luoking
that its name of Hungery Hall seemed well adapted
to it.

When the boat touched the shore the father of the dead
child came’ out of the hut, and shook hands with every one
in solemn silence; when he came to his brother he kissed him,
and the brother in his turn went up the bank and kissed a
number of Indian women who were standing round; there
wag not a word spoken by any one; after awhile they
all went into the hut in which the little body Jay, and
remained some time inside. In its way, I don’t ever
recollect seeing 4 more solemn exhibition of grief than this
complete silence in the presence of death; there was no
question asked, no sign given, and the silence of the dead
seemed to have descended upon the living. In a little time
several Indians appeared, and I questioned them as to the
Expedition ; had they seen or heard of it?

“Yes, there was one young man who had seen with his
own eves the great army of the white braves,”

“Where?” I asked.

“Where the road slants down into the lake,” was the
interpreted reply.

“ What were they like?” I asked again, half ineredulous
after so many disappointments.

He thought for awhile: “They were like the locusts,”
he answered, “they came on one after the other.” There
could be no mistake about it, he had seen British soldiers.

The chief of the party now came forward, and asked what
Thad got to say to the Indians; that he would like to hear
me make a speech; that they wanted to know why all

THE GREAT LONE LAND. 163

these men were coming through their country. To make a
speech! it was a curious request. I was leaning with my back
against the mast, and the Indians were seated in a line on
the bank; every thing looked so miserable around, that I
thought I might for once play the part of Chadband, and
improve the oceasion, and, as a speech was expected of me,
take it. So I said,“ Tell this old chief that I am sorry he
is poor and hungry; but let him look around, the land on
which he sits is rich and fertile, why does he not cut down
the trees that cover it, and plant in their places potatoes
and corn ? then he will have food in the winter when the
moose is scarce and the sturgeun cannot be caught.” He
did not seem to relish my speech, but said nothing. I gave
a few plugs of tobacco all round, and we shoved out again
into the river. ‘“ Where the road comes down to the lake ”
the Indian had seen the troops; where was that spot? no
easy matter to decide, for lakes are so numerous in this
land of the North-west that the springs of the earth seem to
have found vent there. Before sunset we fell in with
another Indian ; he was alone in a canoe, which he paddled
close along shore out of the reach of the strong breeze which
was sweeping us fast up the river. While he was yet a long
way off, Samuel declared that he had recently left Fort
Francis, and therefore would bring us news from that place.
“ How can you tell at this distance that he has come fiom
the fort??? I asked. “Because his shirt looks bright,” he
answered. And so it was; he had left the fort on the previous
day and run seventy miles ; he was old Monkman’s Indian
returning after having left that hardy coyageur at Fort
Francis.

Not a soldier of the Expedition had yet reached the fort,
nor did any man know where they were.

On again; another sun set and another sun rose, and we

164 TUE GREAT LONE LAND.

were still running up the Rainy River before a strong north
wind which fellaway towards evening. At sundown of
the 3rd August I calculated that some four and twenty
miles must yet lie between me and that fort at which, I
felt convinced, some distinct tidings must reach me of the
progress of the invading column. I was already 180 miles
beyond the spot where I had counted upon falling in
with them. Twas nearly 400 miles from Fort Garry.
Towards evening on the 3rd it fell a dead calm, and the
heavy boat could make but little progress against the strong
running current of the river, so I bethought me of the
little birch-bark canoe which I had brought from Rat
Portage; it was a very tiny one, but that was no hindrance
to the work I now required of it. We had been sailing all
day, so my men were fresh. At supper I proposed that
Samuel, Monkman, and William Prince should come on with
me during the night, that we would leave Thomas Hope in
command of the big boat and push on for the fort in the
light canoe, taking with us only sufficient food for one meal.
The three men at once assented, and Thomas was delighted
at the prospect of one last grand feed all to himself,
besides the great honour of being promoted to the rank and
dignity of Captain of the boat. So we got the little craft
out, and having gummed her all over, started once more on
our upward way just as the shadows of the night began to
close around the river. We were four in number, quite as
many as the canoe could carry; she was very low in the
water and, owing to some damage received in the rough
waves of the Lake of the Woods, soon began to leak badly.
Once we put ashore to gum and pitch her seams again, but
still the water oozed in and we were wet. What was to be
done? with these delays we never could hope to reach the
fort by daybreak, and something told me instinctively,

THE GREAT LONE LAND. 165

that unless I did get there that night I would find the
Expedition already arrived. Just at that moment we descried
smoke rising amidst the trees on the right shore, and
soon saw the poles of Indian lodges. The men said they
were very bad Indians from the American side~the left
shore of Rainy River is American territory—but the chance
of a bad Indian was better than the certainty of a
bad canoe, and we stopped at the camp. A lot of hali-
naked redskins came out of the trees, and the pow-wow
commenced. I gave them all tobacco, and then asked if they
would give me a good canoe in exchange for my bad one,
telling them that I would give them a present next day at
the fort if one or two amongst them would come up there,
After a short parley they assented, and a beautiful canoe was
brought out and placed on the water. They also gave us a
supply of dried sturgeon, und, again shaking hands all round,
we departed on our way.

This time there was no mistake, the canoe proved as dry
as a bottle, and we paddled bravely on through the mists of
night. About midnight we halted for supper, making a
fire amidst the long wet grass, over which we fried the
sturgeon and boiled our kettle; then we went on again
through the small hours of the morning. At times I
could see on the right the mouths of large rivers which
flowed from the west: it is down these rivers that the
American Indians come to fish for sturgeon in the Rainy
River. For nearly 200 miles the country is still theirs, and
the Pillager and Red Lake branches of the Ojibbeway
nation yet hold their hunting-grounds in the vast swamps
of North Minnesota.

These Indians have a bad reputation, as the name of
Pillager implies, and my Red River men were anxious to
avoid: falling in with them. Once during the night, oppo.

166 THE GREAT LONE -LAND.

site the mouth of one of the rivers opening to the west, we
saw the lodges of a large party on our left; with paddles
that were never lifted out of the water, we glided noise-
lessly by, as silently as a wild duck would cleave the
current. Once again during the long night a large
sturgeon, strack suddenly by a paddle, alarmed us by
bounding out of the water and landing full upon the gun-
wale of the canoe, splashing back again into the water and
wetting us all by his curious manceuvre. At length in
the darkness we heard the hollow rear of the great Falls of
the Chaudiere sounding loud through the stillness. It
grew louder and louder as with now tiring strokes my
worn-out men worked mechanically at their paddles. The
day was beginning to break. We were close beneath the
Chaudiere and alongside of Fort Francis. The scene was won-
drously beautiful. In the indistinct light of the early dawn
the cataract seemed twice its natural height, the tops of pine-
trees rose against the pale green of the coming day, close
above the falls the bright morning-star hung, diamond-like,
over the rim of the descending torrent; around the air
was tremulous with the rush of water, and to the north the
rose-coloured streaks of the aurora were woven into the
dawn. My long solitary journey had nearly reached its
close.

Very cold and cramped by the constrained position in
which I had remained all night, I reached the fort, and,
unbarring the gate, with my rifle knocked at the door of
one of the wooden houses. After a little, a man opened the
door in the costume, scant ard unpicturesque, in which he
had risen from his bed.

“ Ts that Colonel Wolseley ?” he asked.

“No,” I answered ; “but that sounds well 3 he can’t be
far off”

“7° YAR GREAT LONE LAND. 167

** He will be in to breakfast,” was the reply.

After all, I was not much-vws" kook. When one has
journeyed very far along such a route as the one I had
followed since leaving Fort Garry in daily expectation of
meeting with a body of men making their way from a dis-
tant point through the same wilderness, one does not like
the idea of being found at last within the stockades of an
Indian trading-post as though one had quietly taken one’s
ease at an inn. Still there were others to be consulted in
the matter, others whose toil during the twenty-seven
hours of our continuous travel had been far greater than
mine.

After an hour’s delay I went to the house where the men
were lying down, and said to them, “The Colonel is close
at hand. It will be well for us to go and meet him, and
we will thus see the soldiers bef=ve they arrive at the Fort ;”’
so getting the canoe out once more, we carried her above
the falls, and paddled up towards the Rainy Lake, whose
waters flow into Rainy River two miles above the fort.

It was the 4th of August—we reached the foot of the
rapid which the river makes as it flows out of the Lake.
Forcing up this rapid, we saw spreading out before us the
broad waters of the Rainy Lake.

The eye of the half-breed or the Indian is of marvellous
keenness; it can detect the presence of any strange
object long before that object will strike the vision of the
civilized man; bué on this occasion the eyes of my men
were at fault, and the glint of something strange upon the
Jake first caught my sight. There they are! Yes, there
they were. Coming along with the full swing of eight
paddles,swepta large North-west canoe, its Iroquois paddlers
timing their strokes to an old French chant as they shot
down towards the river’s source.

168 THE GREAT LONE LAND;

Beyond, in the expanse of the lake, a boat or two showed
far and faint. "We put into the rocky shore, and, mounting
upon a crag which guarded the head of the rapid, I waved
to the leading canoe as it swept along. In the centre sat
a figure in uniform with forage-cap on head, and I could
see that he was scanning through a field-glass the strange
figure that waved a welcome from the rock. Soon they
entered the rapid, and commenced to dip down its rushing
waters. Quitting the rock, I got again into my canoe, and
we shoved off into the current. Thus ranning down the
rapid the two canoes drew together, until at its foot they
were only a few paces apart.

Then the officer in the large canoe, recognizing a face he
had last seen three months before in the hotel at Toronto,
called out, “ Where on earth have you dropped from ?” and
with a “ Fort Garry, twelve days out, sir,”” I was in his boat. -

The officer whose canoe thus led the advance into Rainy
River was no other than the commander of the Expedi-
tiovary Force. During the period which had elapsed since
that force had landed at Thunder Bay on the shore of Lake
Superior, he had toiled with untiring energy to overcome
the many obstacles which opposed the progress of the troops
through the rock-bound fastnesses of the North. But there
are men whose perseverance hardens, whose energy quickens
beneath difficulties and delay, whose genius, like some
spring bent back upon its base, only gathers strength from
resistance. These men are the natural soldiers of the world;
and fortunate is it for those who carry swords and rifles and
are dressed in uniform when such men are allowed to lead
them, for with such menas leaders the following, if it be Bri-
tish, will be allright—nay, if it be of any nationality onthe
earth, it will be all right too. Marches will be made beneath
suns which by every rule of known experience ought to

J TUE HEAD OF THR BAGID, F WAVED TO TIE

Asus

LEADING CANOR

Y SHONE, AND, MOUNTING UPON A CRAG WIKICHL at,

”~

‘ia pur isto THe nocK

THE GREAT LONE LAND. 169

prove fatal to nine-tenths of those who are exposed to them,
rivers will be crossed, deserts will be traversed, and moun-
tain passes will be pierced, and the men who cross and
traverse and pierce them will only marvel that doubt or
distrust should ever have entered into their minds as to the
feasibility of the undertaking. The man who led the little
army across the Northern wilderness towards Red River
was well fitted in every respect for the work which was to
bedone. He was young in years but he was old in service ;
the highest professional training had developed to the utmost
hisability, while it had left unimpaired the natural instinctive
faculty of doing a thing from oneself, which the knowledge
of agiven rule for a given action so frequently destroys.
Nor was it only by his energy, perseverance, and profes-
sional training that Wolseley was fitted to lead men upon
the very exceptional service now required from them.
Officers and soldiers will always follow when those three
qualities are combined in the man who leads them; but
they will follow with delight the man who, to these quali-
- ties, unites a happy aptitude for command, which is neither
taught nor learned, but which is instinctively possessed.

Let us look back a little wpon the track of this Expedi-
tion. Through a vast wilderness of wood and rock and
water, extending for more than 600 miles, 1200 men, carry-
ing with them all the appliances of modern war, had to
force their way.

The region through which they travelled was utterly
destitute of food, except such as the wild game afforded to
the few scattered Indians; and even that source was so
limited that whole families of the Ojibbeways had perished
of starvation, and cases of cannibalism had been frequent
amongst them. Once cut adrift from Lake Superior, no
chance remained for food until the distant settlement of

aaah

. 170 THE GREAT LONE LAND.

Red River had been reached. Nor was it at all certain that
even there supplies could be obtained, periods of great dis-
tress had occurred in the settlement itself; and the dis-
turbed state into which its affairs had lately fallen in no
way promised to give greater habits of agricultural industry
to a people who were proverbially roving in their tastes. It
became necessary, therefore, in piercing this wilderness to
take with the Expedition three month’s supply of food, and
the magnitude of the undertaking will be somewhat under-
stood by the outside world when this fact is borne in mind.

Of course it would have been a simple matter if the boats
which carried the men and their supplies had been able to
sail through an unbroken channel into the bosom of Lake
Winnipeg ; but through that long 600 miles of luke and
river and winding creek, the rocky declivities of cataracts
and the wild wooded shores of rapids had to be traversed,
and full forty-seven times between lake and lake had boats,
stores, and ammunition, had cannon, rifles, sails, and oars
to be lifted from the water, borne across long ridges of
rock and swamp and forest, and placed again upon the
northward rolling river. But other difficulties had to be
overcome which delayed at the outset the movements of
the Expedition. A road, leading from Lake Superior to
the height by Jand (42 miles), had been rendered
utterly impassable by fires which swept the forest and
rains which descended for days in continuous torrents, A
considerable portion of this road had also to be opened out
in order to carry the communication through to Lake She-
bandowan close to the height of land.

For weeks the whole available strength of the Expedition
had been employed in road-making and in hauling the
boats up the rapids of the Kaministiquia River, and it-was
only on the 16th of July, after seven weeks of unremitting

THE GREAT LONE LAND. 171

toil and arduous labour, that all these preliminary difficulties
had been finally overcome and the leading detachments of
boats set out upon their long and perilous journey into the
wilderness. Thus it came to pass that on the morning of
the 4th of August, just three weeks after that departure,
the silent shores of the Rainy River beheld the advance of
these pioneer boats who thus far had “ marched on without
impediment.”

The evening of the day that witnessed my arrival at Fort
Francis saw also my departure from it; and before the sun
had set I was already far down the Rainy River. But I
was no longer the solitary white man; and no longer the
eamp-fire had around it the swarthy faces of the Swampies.
The woods were noisy with many tongues; the night was
bright with the glare of many fires. The Indians, frightened
by such a concourse of braves, had fled into the woods, and
the roofless poles of their wigwams alone marked the
camping-places where but the evening before I had seen
the red man monarch of all he surveyed. The word had
gone forth from the commander to push on with all speed
for Red River, and I was now with the advanced portion
of the 60th Rifles ex route for the Lake of the Woods. Of
my old friends the Swampies only one remained with me,
the others had been kept at Fort Francis to be distributed
amongst the various brigades of boats as guides to the Lake
of the Woods and Winnipeg River; even Thomas Hope had
got a promise of a brigade—in the mean time pork was
abundant, and between pride and pork what more could
even Hope desire? .

In two days we entered the Lake of the Woods, and
hoisting sail stood out across the waters. Never before
had these lonely islands witnessed such a sight as they now
beheld. Seventeen large boats close hauled to a splendid

172 THE GREAT LONE LAND.

breeze swept in a great scattered mass through the high-
running seas, dashing the foam from their bows as they dipped.
and rose under their large lug-sails. Samuel Henderson
led the way, proud of his new position, and looked upon by
the soldiers of his boat as the very acme of an Indian.
How the poor fellows enjoyed that day! no oar, no portage
no galling weight over rocky ledges, nothing but a grand
day’s racing over the immense lake. They smoked all day,
balancing themselves on the weather-side to steady the
boats as they keeled over into the heavy seas. I think
they would have given even Mr. Riel that day a pipeful
of tobaceo; but Heaven help him if they had caught him
two days later on the portages of the Winnipeg! he would
have had a hard time of it.

There has been some Hungarian poet, I think, who has
found a theme for his genius in the glories of the private
soldier. He had been a soldier himself, and he knew the
wealth of the mine hidden in the unknown and unthought-
of Rank and File. It is a pity that the knowledge of that
wealth should not be more widely circulated.

Who are the Rank and File? They are the poor
wild birds whose country has cast them off, and who
repay her by offering their lives for her glory; the
men who take the shilling, who drink, who drill, who
march to music, who fill the graveyards of Asia; the men
who stand sentry at the gates of world-famous fortresses,
who are old when their elder brothers are still young,
who are bronzed and burned by fierce suns, who sail over
seas packed in great masses, who watch at night over lonely
magazines, who shout, “ Who comes there?” through the
darkness, who dig in trenches, who are blown to pieces in
mines, who are torn by shot and shell, who have carried the
flag of England’ into every land, who have made her name

THE GREAT LONE LAND. 173

famous through the nations, who are the nation’s pride in
her hour of peril and her plaything in her hour of pro-
sperity—these are the rank and file. - We are a curious”
nation; until lately we bought our rank, as we buy our
mutton, in a market; and we found officers and gentlemen
where other nations would have found thieves and swindlers.
Until lately we flogged our files with a cat-o’-nine-tails, and
found heroes by treating men like dogs. But to return
to the rank and file. The regiment which had been selected.
for the work of piercing these solitudes of the American
continent had peculiar claims for that service. In bygone
times it had been composed exclusively of Americans, and
there was not an Expedition through all the wars which
England waged against France in the New World in which
the 60th, or “ Royal Americans,” had not taken a promi-
- nent part. When Munro yielded to Montcalm the fort of
William Henry, when Wolfe reeled back from Montmorenci
and stormed Abraham, when Pontiae swept the forts from
Lake Superior to the Ohio, the 60th, or Royal Ameri-
cans, had ever been foremost in the struggle. Weeded
now of their weak and sickly men, they formed a picked
body, numbering 350 soldiers, of whom any nation on earth
might well be proud. They were fit to do any thing and to
go any where; and if a fear lurked in the minds of any of
them, it was that Mr. Riel would not show fight. Well
led, and officered by men who shared with them every thing,
from the portage-strap to a roll of tobacco, there was com-
plete confidence from the highest to the lowest. To be wet
seemed to be the normal condition of man, and to carry a
pork-barrel weighing 200 pounds over a rocky portage was
but constitutional and exhilarating exercise—such were the
men with whom, on the evening of the 8th of August, I once
more reached the neighbourhood of the Rat Portage. In

“4174 THE GREAT LONE LAND.

a little bay between many islands the flotilla halted just
before entering the reach which led to the portage. Paddling
on in front with Samuel in my little canoe, we came sud-
‘ denly upon four large Hudson Bay boats with full crews
of Red River half-breeds and Indians—they were on their
way to meet the Expedition, with the object of rendering
what assistance they could to the troops in the descent of
the Winnipeg river. They had begun to despair of ever
falling in with it, and great was the excitement at the
sudden meeting; the flint-gun was at once discharged into
the air, and the shrill shouts began to echo through the
islands. But the excitement on the side of the Expedition
was quite as keen. The sudden shots and the wild shouts
made the men in the boats in rear imagine that the fun was
really about to begin, and that a skirmish through the
wooded isles would be the evening’s work. The mistake
was quickly discovered. They were glad of course to meet
their Red River friends; but somehow, I fancy, the feeling
of joy would eertainly not have been lessened had the boats
held the dusky adherents of the Provisional Government. .
' On the following morning the seventeen boats com-
menced the descent of the Winnipeg river, while I
remained at the Portage-du-Rat to await the arrival
of the chief of the Expedition from Fort Francis. Each
succeeding day brought a fresh brigade of boats under
the guidance of one of my late canoe-men; and finally
Thomas Hope came along,—seemingly enjoying life to
the utmost—pork was plentiful, and as for the French
there was no need to dream of them, and he could sleep in
peace in the midst of fifty white soldiers.

During six days I remained at the little Hudson Bay
Company’s post at the Rat Portage, making short excur-
sions into the surrounding Jakes and rivers, fishing helow

THE GREAT LONE LAND. 175

the rapids of the Great Chute, and in the evenings listening
to the Indian stories of the lake as told by my worthy host,
Mr. Macpherson, a great portion of whose life had been
spent in the vicinity.

One day I went some distance away from the fort to fish
at the foot of one of the great rapids formed by the Winni-
peg River as it runs from the Lake of the Woods.. We
earried our canoe over two or three portages, and at length
reached the chosen spot. In the centre of the river an
Indian was floating quietly in his canoe, casting every now
and then a large hook baited with a bit of fish into the water.
My bait consisted of a bright.spinning piece of metal, which
I had got in one of the American cities on my way through
Minnesota. Its effect upon the fish of this lonely region
was marvellous; they had never before been exposed to
such a fascinating affair, and they rushed at it with avidity.
Civilization on the rocks had certainly a better time of it,
as far as catching fish went, than barbarism: in the canoe.
With the shining thing we killed three for the Indian’s one.
My companion, who was working the spinning bait while I
sat on the rock, casually observed, pointing to the Indian,—

“ He’s a Windigo.”

« A what?” I asked.

«A Windigo.”

«What is that?”

‘¢ A man that has eaten other men.”

“ Has this man eaten other men ?”

“Yes; a long time ogo he and his band were starving,
and they killed and ate forty other Indians who were starving
with them. They lived through the winter on them, and in
the spring he had-to fly from Lake Superior because the
others wanted to kill him in revenge; and so he came here,
and he now lives alone near this place.”

176 THE GREAT LONE LAND.

The Windigo soon paddled over to us, and I had a good
opportunity of studying his appearance. He was a stout,
low-sized savage, with coarse and repulsive features, and
eyes fixed sideways in his head like a Tartar’s. We had
Jeft our canoe some distance away, and my companion
asked him to put us across to an island. The Windigo at
once consented: we got into his canoe, and he ferried us
over. I don’t know the name of the island upon which he
Tanded us, and very likely it has got no name, but in
mind, at least, the rock and the Windigo will always be
associated with that celebrated individual of our early days,
the King of the Cannibal Islands. . The Windigo looked
with wonder at the spinning bait, seeming to regard it as
a “great medicine ;” perhaps if he had possessed such a
thing he would never have been forced by hunger to be-
come a Windigo.

Of the bravery of the Lake of the Woods Ojibbeway I did
not form avery high estimate. Two instances related to me
by Mr. Macpherson will suffice to show that opinion to have
been well founded. Since the days when the Bird of Ages
dwelt on the Coteau-des-Prairies the Ojibbeway and the
Sioux have warred against each other ; but as the Ojibbeway

: dwelt chiefly in the woods and the Sioux are denizens of the
great plains, the actual war carried on between them has
not been unusually destructige. The Ojibbeways dislike to
go far into the open plains; the Sioux hesitate to pierce the
dark depths of the forest, and the war is generally confined
to the border Jand, where the forest begins to merge into ~
the plains. Every now and again, however, it becomes
necessary “to go through the form of a war-party, and the |
young men depart upon the war-path against their hereditary
enemies. To kill a Sioux and take his scalp then becomes
the great object of existence. Fortunate is the brave who

THE GREAT LONE LAND. 177

can return to the camp bearing with him the coveted
trophy. Far and near spreads the glorious news that a
Sioux scalp has Leen taken, and for many a night the
camps are noisy with the shouts and revels ofthe sealp-
dance from Winnipeg to Rainy Lake. It matters little
whether it be the scalp of a man, a woman, or a ebild;
provided it be a scalp it is all right. Here is the record of
the two last war-paths from the Lake of the Woods,

Thirty Ojibbeways set out one fine day for the plains to
war against the Sioux, they followed the line of the
Rosseau River, and soon emerged from the forest. Before
them Jay a camp of Sioux. The thirty braves, hidden
in the thickets, looked at the camp of their enemies; but
the more they looked the less they liked it. They called a
council of deliberation ; it was unanimously resolved to
retire to the Lake of the Woods: but surely they must
bring back a sealp, the women would laugh at them! What
was to bedone? At length the difficulty was solved. Close
by there was a‘newly-made grave; a squaw had died and
been buried. Excellent idea; one scalp was as good as
another. So the braves dug up the buried squaw, took the
sealp, and departed for Rat Portage. There was a great
dance, and it was decided that each and every one of the
thirty Ojibbeways deserved well of his nation.

But the second instance is still more revolting. A very
brave Indian departed alone from the Lake of the Woods
to war against the Sioux; he wandered abont, hiding in the
thickets by day and coming forth at night. One evening,
being nearly starved, he saw the smoke of a wigwam; he
wert towards it, and found that it was inhabited only by
women and children, of whom there were four altogether.
He went up and asked for food; they invifed him to enter
the lodge; they set before him the best food they had got,

178 THE GREAT LONE LAND.

and they laid a buffalo robe for his bed in the warmest
comer of the wigwam. When night came, all slept; when
midnight came the Ojibbeway quietly arose from his couch,
killed the two women, killed the two children, and departed
for the ake of the Woods with four scalps. Oh, he was
a very brave Indian, and his name went far through the
forest! I know somebody who would have gone very far
to see him hanged.

Late on the evening of the 14th August the commander
of the Expedition arrived from Fort Francis at the Portage-
du-Rit. Hehad attempted to cross the Lake of the Woods
in a gig manned by soldiers, the weather being too tempes-
tuous to allow the canoe to put out, and had lost his way in
the vast maze of islands already spoken of. As we had re-
ceived intelligence at the Portage-du-Rat of his having set
out from the other side of the lake, and as hour after hour
passed without bringing his boat in sight, I got the canoe
ready and, with two Indians, started to light a beacon-fire on
the-top of the Devil’s Rock, one of the haunted islands of
the lake, which towered high over the surrounding isles.
We had not proceeded far, however, before we fell in
with the missing gig bearing down for the portage under
the guidance of an Indian who had been picked up ex
route.

On the following day I received orders to start at once for
Fort Alexander at the mouth of the Winnipeg River to en-
gage guides for the brigades of boats which had still to
come—two regiments of Canadian Militia. And here let us
not forget the men who, following in the footsteps of the
regular troops, were now only a few marches behind their
more tertunate comrades. To the lot of these two regiments
of Canadian Volunteers fell the same hard’ toil of oar and
portage which we have already described. The men com-

THE GREAT LONE TAND. 179

posing. these regiments were stout athletic fellows, eager
for service, tired of citizen life, and only needing the toil of
a carspaign to weld them into as tough and resolute a body

“

of -72 as ever leader could desire.

180 THE GREAT LONE LAND.

CHAPTER XII.

To Fort Garry—Down tie Wrsxirec—Her Mavsesry’s Royat
Mau.—Grittie a Mar-pac—Rusyixe a Rarm—OUr tum
Rep River—~A preary Bivovac~Tue Presipext BOLTS—
Tie Reset Curers—Derarture or tue RecuLtar Troors.

I 00x a very small canoe, manned by three Indians—
father and two sons—and, with provisions for three days,
commenced the descent of theriver of rapids. Tow we shot
down the hissing waters in that tiny craft! How fast we
left the wooded shores behind us, and saw the lonely isles
flit by as the powerful current swept us like a leaf upon
its bosom !

It was late of the afternoon of the 15th Angust when I
left for the last time the Lake of the Woods. Next night
our camp was made below the Eagle’s Nest, seventy miles
from the Portage-du-Rat. A wild storm burst upon us at
night-fall, and our bivouae was a damp and dreary one.
The Indians lay under the canoe; I sheltered as best I

‘could beneath a huge pine-tree. My oil-cloth was only
four feet.in length—a shorteoming on the part of its feet
which caused mine to suffer much discomfort. Besides, I
had Her Majesty’s royal mail to keep dry; and, with the
limited liability of my oil~cloth in the matter of length, that
became no easy task—two bags of letters and papers,
home letters and papers, too, for the Expedition. They had
been flung into my canoe when leaving Rat Portage, and I
had spent the first day in sorting them as we swept along,

THE GREAT LONE LAND. 181

.and now they were getting wet in spite of every effort to the
contrary. I made one baginto a pillow, but the rain came
through the big pine-tree, splashing down through the
branches, putting out my fire and drenching mail-bags and
blankets.

Daylight came at last, but still the rain hissed down,
making it no easy matter to boil our kettle and fry our bit
of pork. Then we put out for the day’s work on the river.
How bleak and wretched it all was! After a while we found
it was impossible to make head against the storm of wind
and rain which swept the water, and we had to put back to
the shelter of our miserable eamp. About seven o’clock the
wind fell, and we set out again. Soon the sun came forth
drying : g and waseming us all over. <All day we paddled on,
passing in succession the grand Chute-a-Jaequot, the Three

. Portages-des-Bois, the Slave Falls, and the dangerous rapids
of the Barriére. The Slave Falls! who that has ever be-
held that superb rush of water will forget it? Glorious,
glorious Winnipeg ! it may be that with these eyes of mine
I shall never see thee again, for thou liest far out of the
track of life, and man mars not thy beauty with ways of
civilized travel; but I shall often see thee in imagination,
and thy rocks and thy waters shall murmur in memory for
life.

That night, the 17th of August, wé made our camp on a
little island close to the Otter Falls. “It came a night of
ceaseless rain, and again the mail-bags underwent a drench-
ing. The old Indian cleared a space in the dripping vege-
tation, and-made me a rude shelter with branches woven
together; but the rain beat through, and drenched body,
bag, and baggage.

And yet how easy it all was, and how sound one slept !
simply because one had to do it; that one consideration is

182 THE GREAT LONE LAND.

the greatest expounder of the possible. I could not speak
a word to my Indians, but we got on by signs, and seldom
found the want of speech—“ ugh, ugh” and “caween,” yes
and no, answered for any difficulty. To make a fire and a
camp, to boil a kettle and fry a bit of meat are the home-
works of the Indian. His life is one long pie-nic, and it
matters as little to him whether sun or rain, snow or biting
frost, warm, drench, cover, or freeze him, as it does to the
moose or the reindeer that share his forest life and yield him
often his forest fare. Upon examining the letters in the
morning the interior of the bags presented such a pulpy and
generally deplorable appearance that I was obliged to stop
at one of the Seven Portages for the purpose of drying Her
Majesty’s mail. “With this object we made_a large fire, and
placing cross-sticks above proceeded to toast and grill the
dripping papers. The Indians sat around, turning the letters
with little sticks as if they were baking cakes or frying
sturgeon. Under their skilful treatment the pulpy mass
soon attained the consistency, and in many instances the
legibility, of a smoked herring, but as they had before pre-
sented a very fishy appearance that was not of much con-
sequence.

This day was bright and fine. Notwithstanding the
delay caused by drying the mails, as well as distributing
them to the several brigades which we overhauled and
passed, we ran a distance of forty miles and made no less
than fifteen portages. The carrying or portaging power of
the Indian is very remarkable. A young boy will trot
away under a load which would stagger a strong European
unaccustomed to such labour. The -portages and the falls
which they avoid bear names which seem strange and un-
meaning but which have their origin in some long-forgotten
incident connected with the early history of the fur trade or

THE GREAT LONE LAND. 183

of Indian war. Thus the great Slave Fall tells by its name
the fate of two Sioux captives taken in some foray by the
Ojibbeway ; lashed together in a canoe, they were the only
men who ever ran the Great Chute. The recks around
were black with the figures of the Ojibbeways, whose wild
triumphant yells were hushed by the roar of the cataract;
but the torture was a short one; the mighty rush, the wild
leap, and the happy hunting-ground, where even Ojib-
beways cease from troubling and Sioux warriors are at
rest, had been reached. In Mackenzie’s journal the fall
called Galet-du-Bonnet is said to have been named by the
Canadian voyageurs, from the fact that the Indians were in
the habit of crowning the highest rock above the portage
with wreaths of flowers and branches of trees. The Grand
Portage, which is three quarters of a mile in length, is the
great test of the strength of the Indian and half-brecd ; but,
if Mackenzie speaks correctly, the coyageur has much de-
generated since the early days of the fur trade, for he
writes that seven pieces, weighing each ninety pounds, were
carried over the Grand Portage by an Indian in one trip-—
630 pounds borne three quarters of a mile by one man—
the loads look big enough still, but 250 poundsis considered
excessive now. ‘These loads are carried in a manner which
allows the whole strength of the body to be put into the
work, A broad leather strap is placed round the forehead,
the ends of the strap passing back over the shoulders sup-
port the pieces which, thus carried, lie along the spine from
the small of the back to the crown of the head. When
fully loaded, the voyageur stands with his body bent
forward, and with one hand steadying the “ pieces,” he
trots briskly away over the steep and rock-strewn por-
tage, his bare or mocassined feet enable him to pass
nimbly over the slippery rocks in places where boots would

184 THE GREAT LONE LAND.

infallibly send portager and pieces feet-foremost to the
bottom. ,

In ascending the ‘Winnipeg we have seen what exciting
toilis rushing or breasting up a rapid. Let us now glance
at the still more exciting operation of running a rapid. It
is difficult to find in life any event which so effectually con-
denses intense nervous sensation into the shortest possible
space of time as does the work of shooting, or running an im-
mense rapid. There is no toil, no heart-breaking labour about
it, but as much coolness, dexterity, and skill as man can
throw into the work of hand, eye, and head; knowledge of
when to strike and how to do it ; knowledge of water and of
rock, and of the one hundred combinations which rock and
watercanassume—for these two things, rockand water, taken
in the abstract, fail as completely to convey any idea of their
fierce embracings in the throes of a rapid as the fire burning _
quietly in a drawing-room fireplace fails to convey the idea

of a house wrapped and sheeted in flames. Above the rapid
all is still and quiet, and one cannot sce what is going on
below the first rnm of therush, but stray shoots of spray and
the deafening roar of descending water tell well enough
what is about to happen. The Indian has got some rock or
mark to steer by, and knows well the door by which he is to
enter the slope of water. As the canoe—never appearing
so frail and tiny as when it is about to commence its series
vf wild leaps and rushes—nears the rim where the waters
disappear from view, the bowsman stands up and, stretching
forward his head, peers down the eddying rush ; in a second
he is on his knees again; without turning his head he
speaks a word or two to those who are behind him; then
the canoe is in the rim; she dips to it, shooting her bows
ckar out of the water and striking hard against the lower
level. Alter that there is no time for thought; the eye is

THE GREAT LONE LAND. 185

not quick enongh to take in the rushing scene. There is a
rock here and a big green cave of water there; there is a
tamultuons rising and sinking of snow-tipped waves ; there
are places that are smooth-running for a moment and then
yawn and open up into great gurgling chasms the next ;
there are strange whirls and backward eddies and rocks,
rough and smooth and polished—-and through all this the
canoe glances like an arrow, dips like a wild bird down the
wing of the storm, now slanting from a rock, now edging a
green cavern, now breaking through a backward rolling
billow, without a word spoken, but with every now and
again a quick convulsive twist and turn of the bow-paddle
to edge far off some rock, to put her full through some
boiling billow, to bold her steady down the slope of some
thundering chute which has the power of a thousand
horses : for remember, this river of rapids, this Winnipeg, is
no mountain torrent, no brawling breok, but over every
rocky ledge and “ wave-worn precipice ” there rushes twice
a vaster volume than Rhine itself pours forth. The rocks
which strew the torrent are frequently the most trifling of
the dangers of the descent, formidable though they appear
to the stranger. Sometimes a huge boulder will stand full
in the midst of the channel, apparently presenting an
obstacle from which eseape seems impossible. The canoe is
rushing full towards it, and no power can save it—there is
just one power that can do it, and the rock itself provides it.
Not the skill of man could run the boat Jows om to that rock.
There is a wilder sweep of water rushing off the polished
sides than on tothem,‘and the instant that we touch that
sweep we shoot away with redoubled speed. No, the rock is
not as treacherous as the whirlpool and twisting billow.

On the night of the 20th of Angust the whole of the
regular troops of the Expedition and the general com-

186 THE GBEAT LONE LAND.

manding it and his staff had reached Fort Alexander, at
the mouth of the Winnipeg River. Some accidents had
occurred, and many had been the “ close shaves” of rock
and rapid, but no life had been lost; and from the 600 miles
of wilderness there emerged 400 soldiers whose muscles and
sinews, taxed and tested by continuous toil, had been deve-
loped to a pitch of excellence seldom equalled, and whose
appearance and physique—browned, tanned, and powerful
—told of the glorious climate of these Northern solitudes.
It was near sunset when the large canoe touched the wooden
pier opposite the Fort Alexander and the commander of the
Expedition stepped on shore to meet his men, assembled for
the first time together since Lake Superior’s distant sea
had been left behind. It was a meeting not devoid of those
associations which make such things memorable, and the
cheer which went up from the soldiers who lined the steep
bank to bid him welcome had in it a note of that sympathy
which binds men together by the inward consciousness of
difficulties shared in common and dangers successfully
overcome together.

Next day the united fleet put out into Lake Winnipeg,
and steered for the lonely shores of the Island of Elks, the
solitary island of the southern portion of the lake. In a
broad, curving, sandy bay the boats found that night a
shelter; a hundred fires threw their lights far into the lake,
and bugle-calls startled echoes that assuredly had never
been roused before by notes so strange. Sailing in a wide-
scattered mass before a favouring breeze, the fleet reached
about noon the following day the mouth of the Red
River, the river whose name was the name of the Expedi-
tion, and whose shores had so long been looked forward
to as a haven of rest from portage and oar labour. There
it was at last, seeking through its many mouths the waters

THE GREAT LONE LAND. 187

of the lake. And now our course lay up along the reed-
fringed river and sluggish current to where the tree-tops
began to xise over the low marsh-land—up to where my old
friends the Indians had pitched their camp and given me
the parting salute on the morning of my departure just one
month before. It was dusk when we reached the Indian
Settlement and made a camp upon the opposite shore, and
darkness had quite set in when Ireached the mission-house,
some three miles higher up. My old friend the Archdeacon
was glad indeed to welcome me back. News from the
settlement there was none—news from the outside world
there was plenty. “A great battle had been fought near
the Rhine,” the old man said, “and the French had been
disastrously defeated.”

Another day of rowing, poling, tracking, and sailing, and
evening closed over the Expedition, camped within six miles
of Fort Garry; but all through the day the river banks
were enlivened with people shouting welcome to the soldiers,
and church bells rang out peals of gladness as the boats
passed by. This was through the English and Scotch
Settlement, the people of which had long grown weary of
' the tyranny of the Dictator Riel. Riel—why, we have
almost forgotten him altogether during these weeks on the
Winnipeg! Nevertheless, he had. still held his own within
the walls of Fort Garry, and still played to a constantly-
decreasing audience the part ofthe Little Napoleon.

During this day, the 23rd August, vague rumours reached
us of terrible things to be done by the warlike President.
He-would suddenly appear with his guns from the woods—
he would blow up the fort when the troops had taken pos-
session—he would die in the ruins. These and many other
schemes of a similar description were to be enacted by.the
Dictator in the last extremity of his despair.

188 THE GREAT LONE LAND.

I had spent the day in the saddle, scouring the woods on
the right bank of the river in advance of the fleet, while on
the left shore a company of the 60th, partly mounted, moved.
on also in advance of the Jeading boats. But neither Riel
nor his followers appeared to dispute the upward passage of
the flotilla, and the woods through which T rode were silent
and deserted. Early in the morning a horse had been lent
to me by an individual rejoicing in the classical name of
Tacitus Struthers. Tacitus had also assisted me to swim
the steed across the Red River in order to gain the right
shore, and, having done so, took leave of me with oft-
repeated injunctions to preserve from harm the horse and
his accoutrements, “For,?’ said Tacitus, “ that thar horse is a
racer.” Well, I suppose it must have been that fact that
made the horse race all day through the thickets and oak
woods of the right shore, but I rather fancy my spurs had
something to say to it too.

When night again fell, the whole force had reached aspot
six miles from the rebel fort, and camp was formed for the
last time on the west bank of the river. And what a night
of rain and storm then broke upon the Red River Expedi-
tion! till the tents flapped and fell and the drenched soldiers
shivered shelterless, waiting for the dawn. The occupants
of tents which stood the pelting of the pitiless storm were
no better off than those outside; the surface of the ground
became ankle-deep in mud and water, and the men lay in
pools during the last hours of the night, .At length a dismal
daylight dawned over the dreary scene, and the upward
course was resumed. Still the rain came down in torrents,
and, with water above, below, and around, the Expedition
neared its destination. If the steed of Tacitus had had a
hard day, the night had been less severe upon him than upon
his rider. I had procured him an excellent stable at the

THE GREAT LONE LAND. 189

other side of the river, and upon recrossing again im the
morning I found him as ready to race as his owner could
desire. Poor beast, he was a most miserable-looking animal,
though belying his attennated appearance by his perform-
ances. The only race which his generally forlorn aspect,
justified one in believing him capable of ranning was a race,
and a hard one, for existence; but for all that he went well,
and Tacitus himself might have envied the classical outline
of his Roman nose.

About two miles north of Fort Garry the Red River
makes a sharp bend to the east and, again turning round to
the west, forms a projecting point or neck of and known as
Point Douglas. This spot is famous in Red River history
as the seene of the battle, before referred to in these pages,
where the voyageurs and French half-breeds of the North-
west Fur Company attacked the retainers of the Hudson
Bay, some time in 1813, and succeeded in putting to death
by various methods of half-Indian warfare the governor of
the rival company and about a score of his followers. At
this point, where the usually abrupt bank of the Red River
was less steep, the troops began to disembark from the boats
for the final advance upon Fort Garry. The preliminary
arrangements were soon completed, and the little army, with
its two brass guns trundling along behind Red River carts,
commeneed its march across the mud-soaked prairie. How
unspeakably dreary it all looked! the bridge, the wretched
village, the crumbling fort, the vast level prairie, water-
soaked, draped in mist, and pressed down by low-lying
clouds. To me the ground was not new—the bridge was .
the spot where only a month before I had passed the half-
breed sentry in my midnight mareh to the Lower Fort.
Other things had changed since then besides the weather.

Preceded by skirmishers and followed bya rear-guard, the

190 THE GREAT LONE LAND.

little force drew near Fort Garry. There was no sign of
occupation; no flag on the flag-staff, no men upon the
walls; the muzzles of one or two guns showed through the
bastions, but no sign of defence or resistance was visible
about the place. The gate facing the north was closed, but
the ordinary one, looking south upon the Assineboine River,
was found open. As the skirmish line neared the north
side two mounted men rode round the west face and entered
at a gallop through the open gateway. On the top steps of
the Government House stood a tall, majestic-looking man,
who, with his horse beside him, alternately welcomed with
uplifted hat the new arrivals and denounced in no stinted
terms one or two miserable-looking men who seemed to
cower beneath his reproaches. This was an officer of the
Hudson Bay Company, well known as one of the most
intrepid amongst the many brave men who had sought for
the lost Franklin in the darkness of the long polar night.
He had been the first to enter the fort, some minutes in
advance of the Expedition, and his triumphant imprecations,
bestowed with unsparing vigour, had tended to accelerate
the flight of M. Riel and the members of his government,
who sought in rapid retreat the safety of the American fron-
tier. How had the mighty fallen! With insult and derision
the President and his colleagues fled from the scene of their
triumph and their crimes. An officer in the service of the
- Company they had plundered hooted them as they went, but
perhaps there was a still harder note of retribution in the
“still small voice” which must have sounded, from the
bastion wherein the murdered Scott had been so brutally done
to death. On the bare flag-staff in the fort the Union Jack
was once more hoisted, and from the battery found in the
square a royal salute of-twenty-one guns told to settler and
savage that the man who had been “elevated by the grace

THE GREAT LONE LAND. 191

of Providence and the suffrages of his fellow-citizens to the
highest position in the Government of his country” had
been ignominiously expelled from his high position. Still
even in his fall we must not be too hard upon him. Vain,
ignorant, and conceited though he was, he seemed to have
been an implicit believer in his mission; nor can it be
doubted that he possessed a fair share of courage too—
courage not of the Red River type, which is a very peculiar
one, but more in accordance with our European ideas of
that virtue.

That he meditated opposition cannot be doubted. The
muskets east away by his guard were found loaded; am-
muuition had been served from the magazine on the
morning of the flight. But muskets and ammunition are
not worth much without hands and hearts to use them,
and twenty hands with perhaps an ageregate of two and
a half hearts among them were all he had to depend on at
the last moment. The other members of his government
appear to have been utterly devoid of a single redeeming
quality. The Hon. W. B. O’Donoghue was one.of.those
miserable beings who seem to inherit the vices of every
calling and nationality to which they can claim a kindred.
Edueated for some semi-clerical profession which he aban-
doned for the more congenisi trade of treason rendered
apparently secure by distance, he remained in garb the
cleric, while he plundered his prisoners and indulged in the
fashionable pastime of gambling with purloined property
and.racing with confiseated horses—a man whose revolt-
ing countenance at once suggested the hulks and prison
garb, and -who, in any other land save America, would
probably long since have reached the convict level for
which. nature destined him. Of the. other active member
of the rebel council—Adjutant-General the Hon. Lepine—

192 THE GREAT LONE LAND.

it is unnecessary to say much. He scems to have possessed
all the vices of the Metis without any of his virtues or
noble traits. A strange ignorance, quite in keeping with
the rest of the Red River rebellion, seems to have existed
among the members of the Provisional Government to the
last moment with regard to the approach of the Expedi-
tion. It is said that it was only the Lugle-sound of the
skirmishers that finally convinced M. Riel of the proximity
of the troops, and this note, utterly unknown in Red River,
followed quickly by the arrival in hot haste of the Hudson
Bay official, whose deprecatory language has been already
alluded to, completed the terror of the rebel government,
inducing a retreat so hasty, that the breakfast of Govern-
ment House was found untouched. Thus that tempest in
the tea-cup, the revolt of Red River, found a fitting
conclusion in the President’s untasted tea. A wild scene
of drunkenness and debauchery amongst the coyageurs
followed the arrival of the troops in Winniper. The
miserable-looking village produced, as if by magic, more
saloons than any city of twice its size in the States could
boast of. The vilest compounds of intoxicating liquors
were sold indiscriminately to every one, and for a time it
secmed as though the place had beeome a very Pande-
monium. No civil authority had been given to the com-
mander of the Expedition; and no civil power of any kind
existed in’ the settlement. The troops alone were under
control, but the populace were free to work what mischief
they pleased. It is almost to be considered a matter of con-
gratulation, that the terrible fire-water sold by the people
of the village should have been of the nature that it was,
for so deadly were its effects upon the brain and nervous
system, that under its influence men became perfectly
helpless, lying stretched upon the prairie for hours, as

THE GREAT LONE LAND. 193

though they were bereft of life itself. I regret to say that
Samuel Henderson was by no means an exception to the
general demoralization that ensued. Men who had been
forced to fly from the settlement during the reign of the
rebel government now returned to their homes, and for
some time it seemed probable that the sudden revulsion of
feeling, unrestrained by the presence of a civil power, would
lead to excesses against the late ruling faction; but, with
one or two exceptions, things began to quiet down again,
and soon the arrival of the civil governor, the Hon. Mr.
Archibald, set matters completely to rights. Before ten
days had elapsed the regular troops had commenced their
long return march to Canada, and the two regiments of
Canadian militia had arrived to remain stationed for some
time in the settlement. But what work it was to get.
the voyageurs away! The Iroquois were terribly intoxicated,
and for a long time refused to get into the boats. There
was a bear (a trophy from Fort Garry), and a terrible
nuisance he proved at the embarkation; for a long time
previous to the start he had been kept quict with un-
limited sugar, but at last he seemed to have had enough
of that condiment, and, with a violent tug, he succeeded in -
snapping his chain and getting away up the bank. What
a business it was! drunken Iroquois tumbling about, and
the bear, with 100 men after him, scuttling: in every direc-
tion. Then when the bear would he captured and put safely
back into his boat, half a dozen of the Iroquois would get
out and run a-muck through every thing. Louis (the
pilot) would fall foul of Jacques Sitsoli, and commence to
inflict severe bodily punishment upon the person of the
unoffending Jacques, until, by the interference of the mul-
titude, peace would be restored and both would be recon-
dueted to their boats. At length they all got away down
9)

194 THE GREAT LONE LAND.

the river. Thus, during the first week of September, the
whole of the regulars departed once more to try the torrents
of the Winnipeg, and on the 10th of the month the com-
mander also took his leave. I was left alone in Fort Garry.
The Red River Expedition was over, and I had to find my
way onee more through the United States to Canada.
My long journey scemed finished, but I was mistaken, for
it was only about to begin.

THE GREAT LONE LAND. 195

CHAPTER XIr.

Westwarnp—News FRoM THE Otrsme Wortp—I merrice xr
Sters—An Orrer—Tne West—Ine KissaskKatcuewax—Tue
Ivtaxp Ocean — Preparations —DersrrcreE— A TERnRiple
Practe—A xonety Grave—Dicressrve—Tne <Assryezorve
RIvVER—ROSSETrE.

One night, it was the 19th of September, I was lying
out in the long prairie grass near the south shore of Lake
Manitoba, in the marshes of which I had been hunting
wild fowl for some days. It was apparently my last night
in Red River, for the period of my stay there had drawn
to its close. Ihad much to think about that night, for only
a few hours before a French half-breed named La Ronde
had brought news to the lonely shores of Lake Manitoba—
news such as men can hear but once in their lives :—

“The whole of the French army and the Emperor had
surrendered themselves prisoners at Sedan, and the Re-
public had been proclaimed in Paris.”

So dreaming and thinking over these stupendous facts,
I lay under the quiet stars, while around me my fellow-
travellers slept. The prospects of my own career seemed
gloomy enough too. Iwas about to go back to old asso-
ciations and Jife-rusting routine, and here was a nation,
whose every feeling my heart had so long echoed a response
to, beaten down and trampled under the heel of the German
whose legions must already be gathering around the walls
of Paris. Why not offer to France in the moment of her

oO 2 °

196 THE GREAT LONE LAND.

bitter adversity the sword and service of even one sym-
pathizing friend—not much of a gift, certainly, but one
which would be at least congenial to my own longing for a
life of service, and my hopeless prospects in a profession in
which wealth was made the test of ability. So as I lay
there in the quiet of the starlit prairie, my mind, running
in these eddying circles of thought, fixed itself upon this
idea: I would go to Paris. I would seek through one
well-known in other times the means of putting in execu-
tion my resolution. I felt strangely excited; sleep seemed
hanished altogether. I arose from the ground, and walked
away into the stillness of the night, Oh, for a sign, for
some guiding light in this uncertain hour of my life! I
looked towards the north as this thought entered my brain.
The aurora was burning faint in the horizon; Aretnrus
lay like a diamond above the ring of the dusky prairie.
As TI looked, a bright globe of light flashed from beneath
the star and passed slowly along towards the west, leaving
in its train a long track of rose-coloured light; in the
uttermost bounds of the west it died slowly away. Was
my wish answered? and did my path He to the west, not
east after all? or was it merely that thing which men call
chance, and dreamers destiny ?

A few days from this time I found myself at the frontier
post of Pembina, whither the troublesome doings of the
escaped Provisional leaders had induced the new governor
Mr. Archibald to send me. On the last day of September
I again reached, by the steamer “ International,” the well-
remembered Point of Frogs. I had left Red River for
good. When the boat reached the landing-place a gentle-
man came on board, a well-known member of the Canadian
bench.

“Where are yon going?” he inquired of me.

{HE GREAT LONE LAND. 197

“To Canada.”

“ Why ? a

* Because there is nothing more to be done.”

** Oh, you must come back.”

“ce Why so 27

“ Because we have a lot of despatches to send to Ottawa,
and the mail is not safe. Come back now, and you will be
here again in ten days time.”

Go back again on the steam-boat and come up next trip
—would I?

There are many men who pride themselves upon their
fixity of purpose, and 2 Jot of similar fixidities and steadi-
ness; but I don’t. I know of nothing so fixed as the
mole, so obstinate as the mule, or so steady as a stone
wall, but I don’ particularly care about making their
general characteristics the rule of my life; and so I decided
to go back to Fort Garry, just as I would have decided to
start for the North Pole had the occasion offered.

Early in the second week of October I once more drew
nigh the hallowed precinets of Fort Garry. ,

“I am so glad you have returned,” said the governor,
Mr. Archibald, when I met him on the evening of my ar-
rival, “ because I want to ask you if you will undertake a
much longer journey than any thing you have yet done.
I am going to ask you if you will accept a mission-to the
Saskatchewan Valley and through the Indian countries of
the West. Take a couple of days to think over it, and Jet
me know your decision.”

“There is no necessity, sir,” I replied, “to consider the
matter, I have already made up my mind, and, if necessary,
will start in half an hour.”

This was on the 10th of October, and winter was already
sending his breath over the yellow grass of the prairies.

195 THE GREAT LONE LAND.

sind now Jet us turn our glance to this great North-
west whither my wandering steps are about to lezd me.
Fully 900 miles as bird would fly, and 1200 as horse can
travel, west of Red River an immense range of mountains,
eternally capped with snow, rises in rugged masses from a
vast stream-seared plain. They who first beheld these
grand guardians of the central prairies named them the
Montagnes des Rochers; a fitting title for such vast ac-
cumulation of rugged’ magnificence. From the glaciers
and ice valleys of this great range of mountains innumer-
able streams descend into the plains. For a time they
wander, as if heedless of direction, through groves and
glades and green spreading declivities; then, assuming
greater fixidity of purpose, they gather up many a wander-
ing rill, and start eastward upon a long journey. At length
the many detached streams resolve themselves into two
yreat water systems; through hundreds of miles these two
rivers pursue their parallel courses, now approaching, now
opening out from each other.. Suddenly, the southern
river bends towards the north, and at a point some 600
miles from the mountains pours its volume of water into
the northern channel. Then the united river rolls in
vast majestic curves steadily towards the north-east, turns
onee more towards the south, opens out into a great reed-
covered marsh, sweeps on into a large cedar-lined lake,
and finally, rolling over a rocky ledge, casts its waters into
the northern end of the great Lake Winnipeg, fully 1300
miles from the glacier cradle where it took its birth.
This river, which has along it every diversity of hill and
vale, meadow-land and forest, treeless plain and fertile
hill-side, is called by the wild tribes who diwell along its
glorious shores the Kissaskatchewan, or Rapid-flowing River.
But this Kissaskatchewan is not the only river which un-

THE GREAT LONE LAND. , 199

waters the great central region lying between Red River
and the Rocky Mountains. The Assinchoine or Stony
River drains the rolling prairie lands 500 miles west from
Red River, and many a smaller stream and rushing, bub-
bling brook carries into its devious channel the waters
of that vast country which lies between the American
boundary-line and the pine woods of the lower Sas-
katchewan.

So much for the rivers; and row for the land through
which they fiow. How shall we picture it? How shall
we tell the story of that great, boundless, solitary waste of
verdure ?-

The old, old maps which the navigators of the sixteenth
century framed from the discoveries of Cabot and Castier,
of Varrazanno and Hudson, played strange pranks with the
geography of the New World. The coast-line, with the
estuaries of large rivers, was tolerably accurate; but the
centre of America was represented as a vast inland sea
whose shores stretched far into the Polar North; a sea

“through which lay the much-coveted passage to the long-
sought treasures of the old realms of Cathay. Well, the
geographers of that period erred only in the description of
ocean which they placed in the central continent, for an
ocean there is, and an ocean through which men seek the
treasures of Cathay, even in our own times. But the ocean
is one of grass, and the shores are the crests of mountain
ranges, and the dark pine forests of sub-Aretic regions. The
great ocean itself does not present more infinite variety
than does this prairie-ocean of which we speak. In winter,
a dazzling surface of purest snow ; in early sammer, a vast
expanse of grass and pale pink roses ; in autumn too often
a wild sea of raging fire. No ocean of water in the world
can vie with its gorgeous sunsets; no solitude can equal

200 THE GREAT LONE LAND.

the loneliness of a night-shadowed prairie: one feels the
stillness, and hears the silence, the wail of the prowling
wolf makes the voice of solitude audible, the stars look
down through infinite silence upon a silence almost as
intense. This ocean has no past—time has been nought
to it; and men have come and gone, leaving behind them
no track, no vestige, of their presence. Some French writer,
speaking of these prairies, has said that the sense of this
utter negation of life, this complete absence of history, bas
struck him with a loneliness oppressive and sometimes
terrible in its intensity. Perhaps so; but, for my part, the
prairies had nothing terrible in their aspect, nothing op-
pressive in their loneliness, One saw here the world as it
had taken shape and form from the hands of the Creator.
Nor did the scene look less beautiful because nature alone
tilled the earth, and the unaided sun brought forth the
flowers. .

October had reached its latest week: the wild geese and
swans had taken their long flight to the south, and their
wailing ery no more descended through the darkness; ice
had settled upon the quiet pools and was settling upon the
quick-running streams; the horizon glowed at night with
the red light of moving prairie fires. It was the close of
the Indian summer, and winter was coming quickly down
from his far northern home.

On the 24th of October I quitted Fort Garry, at ten
vclock at night, and, turning out into the level prairie,
commeneed a long journey towards the West. The night
was cold and moonless, but a brilliant aurora flashed
and trembled in many-coloured shafts across the starry
sky. Behind me lay friends and news of friends, eiviliza-
tion, tidings of a terrible war, firesides, and houses; before
me lay unknown savage tribes, long days of saddle-travel,

THE GREAT LONE LAND. 201

long nights of chilling bivouac, silence, separation, and
space!

I had as a companion for a portion of the journey an
officer of the Hudson Bay Company’s service who was
returning to his fort in the Saskatchewan, from whence he
had igyt recently come. As attendant I had a French half
breed from Red River Settlement—a tall, active fellow, by
name Pierre Diome. My means of travel consisted of five
horses and one Red River cart. For my personal use I
had a small black Canadian horse, or pony, and an English
saddle. My companion, the Hudson Bay officer, drove his
own light spring-waggon, and had also his own horse. I
was well found in blankets, deer-skins, and moccassins; ull
the appliances of balf-breed apparel had been brought into
play to fit me out, and I found myself possessed of ample
stores of leggings, buffalo “ mittaines” and capdts, where-
with to face the biting breeze of the prairie and to stand
at night the icy bivouae. So much for personal costume ;
now for official kit. In the first place, I was the bearer
and owner of two commissions. By virtue of the first I
was empowered to confer upon two gentlemen in the
Saskatchewan the rank and status of Justice of the
Peace; and in the second I was appointed to that rank
and status myself. As to the matter of extent of juris-
diction comprehended under the name of Justice of the
Peace for Rupert’s Land and the North-west, I believe that
the only parallel to be found in the world exists under the
title of “Czar of all the Russias” and “ Khan of Mongo-
lia;”” but the northern limit of all the Russias has been
successfully arrived at, whereas the North-west is but a
general term for every thing between the 49th parallel
of north latitude and the North Pole itself. But docu-
mentary evidence of unlimited jurisdiction over Blackfeet,

902 THE GREAT LONE LAND.

Bloods, Big Bellies (how much better this name sounds in
French !), Sircies, Peagins, Assincboines, Crees, Muskegocs,
Salteaux, Chipwayans, Loucheaux, and Dogribs, not in-
eluding Esquimaux, was not the only ecartulary carried
by me into the prairies. A terrible disease had swept, for
some months previous to the date of my journey, the
Indian tribes of Saskatchewan. Small-pox, in its most
ageravated type, had passed from tribe to tribe, leaving
in its track depopulated wigwams and vacant council-
lodges; thousands (and there are not many thousands,
all told) had perished on the great sandy plains that lic
between the Saskatchewan and the Missouri. Why this
most terrible of diseases should prey with especial fury
upon the poor red man of America has never been
accounted for by medical authority; but that it does
prey upon him with a violence nowhere else to be
found is an undoubted fact.. Of all the fatal methods of
destroying the Indians which his white brother has
introduced into the West, this plague of small-pox is the
most deadly. The history of its annihilating progress is
written in too legible characters on the desolate expanses
of untenanted wilds, where the Indian graves are the sole
traces of the red man’s former domination. Beneath this
awful scourge whole tribes have disappeared—the bravest
and the best have vanished, because their bravery forbade
that they should fice from the terrible infection, and, like
soldiers In some square plunged through and rent with
shot, the survivors only closed more despairingly together
when the death-stroke fell heaviest among them. They
knew nothing of this terrible disease ; it had come from
the white man and the trader; but its speed had distanced
even the race for gold, and the Missouri Valley had been
swept by the epidemie before the men who carried the fire-

THE GREAT LONE LAND. 203

water had crossed the Mississippi. For cighty years these
vast regions had known at intervals the deadly presence of
this disease, and through that lapse of time its history had
been ever the same. It had commenced in the trading-
camp; but the white man had remained comparatively
secure, while his red brothers were swept away by hun-
dreds. Then it had travelled on, and every thing had gone
down before it—the chief and the brave, the medicine-man,
the squaw, the papoose. The camp moved away; but the
dread disease clung to it—dogged it with a perseverance
more deadly than hostile tribe or prowling war-party ; and
far over the plains the track was marked with the unburied
bodies and bleaching bones of the wild warriors of the
West.

The summer which had just passed had witnessed one of
the deadliest attacks of this disease. It had swept from
the Missouri through the Blackfeet tribes, and had run the
whole length of the North Saskatchewan, attacking imdis-
criminatcly Crees, half-breeds, and Hudson Bay employds.
The latest news received from the Saskatchewan was one
long record of death. Carlton House, a fort of the Hudson
Bay Company, 600 miles north-west from Red River, had
been attacked in August. Late in September the disease
still raged among its few inhabitants. From farther west
tidings had also come bearing the same messige of disaster.
Crees, half-breeds, and even the few Europeans had been
attacked; all medicines had been expended, and the officer
in charge at Carlton had perished of the disease.

You are to ascertain as far as you can in what places and
zmong what tribes of Indians, and what settlements of
whites, the small-pox is now prevailing, including the
extent of its ravages, and every particular you can ascertain
in connexion with the rise aud the spread of the discase.

20-4. TUE GREAT LUNE LAND.

You are to take with you such small supply of medicines
as shall be deemed by the Board of Health here suitable
and proper for the treatment of small-pox, and you will
obtain written instructions for the proper treatment of the
disease, and will leave a copy thereof with the chief officer
of each fort you pass, and with any clergyman or other
intelligent person belonging to settlements outside the
forts.” So ran this clause in my instructions, and thus it
came about that amongst many curious parts which a
wandering life had caused me to play, that of physician in
. ordinary to the Indian tribes of the farthest west became
the most original. The preparation of these medicines and
the printing of the instructions and directions for the treat-
ment of small-pox had consumed many days and occasioned
considerable delay in my departure. At length the medicines
were declared complete, and I proceeded to inspect them.
Fight large cases met my astonished gaze. Iwas in despair;
eight cases would necessitate slow progression and extra
horses ; fortunately a remedy arose. A medical officer was
directed by the Board of Health to visit the Saskatchewan ;
he was to start at a later date. I handed over to him six
of the eight cases, and with my two remaining ones and
unlimited printed directions fur small-pox in three stages,
departed, as we have already seen. By forced marching I
hoped to reach the distant station of Edmonton on the
Upper Saskatchewan in a little less than one month, but
much would depend upon the state of the larger rivers and
upon the snow-fall ex route. The first week in November
is usually the period of the freezing in of rivers; but eross-
ing large rivers partially frozen is a dangerous work, and
many such obstacles lay between me and the mountains.
If Edmonton was to be reached before the end of November
delays would not be possible, and the season of my journey

THE GREAT LONE LAND. 205

was one which made the question of rapid travel a question
of the change of temperature of a single night. On the
second day out we passed the Portage-la-Prairie, the last
settlement towards the West. A few miles farther on
we crossed the Rat Creek, the boundary of the new province
of Manitoba, and struck out into the solitudes. The first
sight was not a cheering one. Close beside the trail, just
where it ascended from the ravine of the Rat Creek, stood
a solitary newly-made grave. Jt was the grave of one who
had been left to die only a few days before. Thrown away
by his companions, who had passed on towards Red River,
he had lingered for three days all exposed to dew and frost.
At length death had kindly put an end to his sufferings,
but three days more clapsed before any person would
approach to bury the remains. He had died from small-
pox brought from the Saskatchewan, and no one would go
near the fatal spot. A French missionary, however, passing
by stopped to dig a hole in the black, soft earth; and so the
poor disfigured clay found at length its lonely resting-place.
That night we made our first camp out in the solitndes. It
was a dark, cold night, and the wind howled dismally
through some bare thickets close by. When the fire
flickered low and the wind wailed and sighed amongst the
dry white grass, it was impossible to resist a feeling of utter
loneliness. A Jong journey lay before me, nearly 3000
miles would have to be traversed before I could hope to
reach the neighhourhood of even this lonely spot itself, this
last verge of civilization ; the terrific cold of a winter of
which I had only heard, 2 cold so intense that travel ceases,
except in the vicinity of the forts of the Hudson Bay
Company—a cold which freezes mercury, and of which the
spirit registers S0° of frost—this was to be the thought
of many nights, the ever-present companion of many days.

206 THE GREAT LONE LAND.

Between this little camp-fire and the giant mountains to
which my steps were tumed, there stood in that long 1200
miles but six houses, and in these houses a terrible. malady
had swept nearly half the inhabitants out of life. So, lying
down that night for the first time with all this before me,
I felt as one who had to face not a few of those things from
which is evolved that strange mystery called death, and
looking out into the vague dark immensity around me, saw
in it the gloomy shapes and shadowy outlines of the by-
gone which memory hides but to produce at such times.
Men whose lot in life is cast in that mould which is so aptly
deserthed. by the term of having only their wits to depend
on,” must accustom themselves to fling aside quickly and
at will all such thonghts and gloomy memories; for
assuredly, if they do not so habituate themselves, they had
better never try in Jife to race against those more favoured
individuals who have things other than their wits to rely
upon. The Wit will prove but a sorry steed unless its owner
be ever ready to race it against those more substantial horses
called Wealth and Interest, and if in that race, the prize
of which is Success, Wit should have to carry its rider into
strange and uncouth places, over rough and broken country,
while the other two horses have only plain sailing before
them, there is only all the more reason for throwing aside
all useless weight and extra incumbrance; and, with these
few digressive remarks, we will proceed into the solitudes.
The days that now commenced to pass were filled from
dawn to dark with unceasing travel; clear, bright days of
mellow sunshine followed by nights of sharp frost which
almost imperceptibly made stronger the icy covering of the
pools and carried farther and farther out into the running
streams the edging of ice which so soon was destined to
cover completely the river and the rill. Onur route lay

TUE GREAT LONE LAND. 207

along the left bank of the Assincboine, but at a considerable
distance from the river, whose winding course could be
marked at times by the dark oak woods that fringed it.
Far away to the south rose the outline of the Blue Hills of
the Souris, and to the north the Riding Mountains lay
faintly upon the horizon. The country was no longer level,
fine rolling hills stretched away before us over which the
wind came with a keenness that made our prairie-fare seem
delicious at the close of a hard day’s toil. 36°, 22°, 24°,
20°; such were the reedings of my thermometer as each
morning I looked at it by the fire-light as we arose from
our blankets before the dawn and shivered in the keen
hoarfrost while the kettle was being boiled. Pereeptibly
getting colder, but still clear and fine, and with every breeze
laden with healthy and invigorating freshness, for four
days we journcyed without secing man or beast; but on the
morning of the fifth day, while camped in a thicket on the
right of the trail, we heard the noise of horses passing near
us. A few hours afterwards we passed a small band of
Salteaux encamped farther on; and later in the day over-
tock a half-breed trader on his way to the Missouri to
trade with the Sioux. This was a celebrated French half
breed named Chaumon Rossette. Chaumon had been under-
going a severe course of drink since he had left the settle-
ment some ten days earlier, and his haggard eyes and
swollen features revealed the incessant orgies of his travels.
He had as companion and defender a young Sioux brave,
whose handsome face also bore token to his having been
busily employed in seeing Chaumon through it. Rossette
was one of the most noted of the Red River bullies, a
terrible drunkard, but tolerated for some stray tokens of
a better nature which seemed at times to belong to him.
When we came up to him he was encamped with his horses

208 THE GREAT LONE LAND.

and carts on a piece of rising ground situated between two
clear and beautiful lakes.

* Well, Chaumoz, going to trade again ?”

* Oui, Captain.”

You had better not come to the forts, all liquor can be
confiscated now. No more whisky for Indian—all stopped.”

“T go very far out on Coteau to meet Sioux. Long
before I get to Sioux I drink all my own liquor; drink
all, trade none. Sioux know me very well; Sioux give me
plenty horses; plenty things: I quite fond of Sioux.”

Chaumon had that holy horror of the law and its ways
which every wild or semi-wild man possesses. There is
nothing so terrible to the savage as the idea of imprison-
ment; the wilder the bird the harder he will feel the cage.
The next thing to imprisonment in Chaumon’s mind was a
Government proclamation—a thing all the more terrible
because he could not read a line of it nor comprehend what
it could be about. Chaumon’s face was a study when I
handed him three different proclamations and one copy of
“The Small-pox in Three Stages.” Whether he ever reached
the Coteau and his friends the Sioux I don’t know, for I
soon passed on my way; but if that lively bit of literature,
entitled “The Small-pox in Three Stages,” had as, con-
vineing an impression on the minds of the Sionx as it had
upon Chaumon, that he was doing something very repre-
hensible indeed, if he could only find out what it was, abject
terror must have been carried far over the Coteau and the
authority of the law fully vindicated along the Missouri.

On Sunday morning the 30th of October we reached a
high bank overlooking a deep valley through which rolled
the Assineboine River. On the opposite shore, 300 feet
above the current, stood a few white houses surrounded by
a wooden palisade. Around, the country stretched away

TIE GREAT LONE LAND. 209

on all sides in magnificent expanses. This was Fort
Ellice, near the junction of the Qu’Appelle and Assine-
home Rivers, 230 miles west from Fort Garry. Fording
the Assineboine, which rolled its masses of ice swiftly
against the shoulder and neck of my horse, we climbed
the steep hill, and gained the fort. I had ridden that
distance in five days and two hours.

210 THE GREAT LONE LAND.

CHAPTER XIV.

Tue Hopsoy Bay Comrayy~Furs anp Free TrapE—Forr Exrrce
—Qeick Travetixc—~Horses—Lrrrie Brackre—Toucirwoop
TWints-—A. Syow-stora—Tre Sovrn SaskatcrewaX—ATTEeM?t
TO CRoss THE River—Deatu or Poor BracktE—Canxtoy.

Tr may have occurred to some reader to ask, What is this
“eompany whose name so often appears upon these pages ?
Who are the men composing it, and what are the objects it
has In view? You have glanced at its early history, its
rivalries, and its discoveries, but now, now at this present
time, while our giant rush of life roars and surges along,
what is the work done by this Company of Adventurers
trading into the Bay of Hudson? Let us see if we can
answer. Of the two great monopolies which the impecuni-
osity of Charles II. gave birth to, the Hudson Bay Company
alone survives, but to-day the monopoly is one of fact, and
not of law. All men are now free to come and go, to trade
and sell and gather furs in the great Northern territory, -
but distanee and climate raise more formidable barriers
against strangers than law or protection could devise. Bold
would he the trader who would earry his goods to the far-
away Mackenzie River; intrepid would be the royageur
who sought a profit from the lonely shores of the great Bear
Lake. Locked in their fastnesses of ice and distance, these
remote and friendless solitudes of the North must long re-
main, as they are at present, the great fur preserve of the

THE GREAT LONE LAND. 211

Hudson Bay Company. Dwellers within the limits of
European states can ill comprehend the vastness of territory
over which this Fur Company holds sway. Isay holds sway,
for the north of North America is still as much in the pos-
session of the Company, despite all cession of title to Canada,
as Crusoe was the monarch of his island, or the man must be
the owner of the moon. From Pembina on Red River to
Fort Anderson on the Mackenzie is as great a distance as
from London to Mecca. From'the King’s Posts to the Pelly
Banks is farther than from Paris to Samareand, and yet to-
day throughout that immense region the Company is king.
And what a king! no monarch rules his subjects with
half the power of this Fur Company. It clothes, feeds, and
utterly maintains nine-tenths of its subjects. From the Es-
quimaux at Ungava to the Loucheaux at Fort Simpson, all
live by and through this London Corporation. The carth
possesses not a wilder spot than the barren grounds of Fort
Providence; around lie the desolate shores of the great
Slave Lake. Twice in the year news comes from the out-
side world—news many, many months old—news borne by
men and dogs through 2000 miles of snow; and yet even
there the gun that brings down the moose and the musk-ox
has been forged in a London smithy ; the blanket that covers
the wild Indian in his cold camp has been woven in a
Whitney loom ; that knife is from Sheffield; that string of
beads from Birmingham. Let us follow the ships that sail
annually from the Thames bound for the supply of this vast
region. It is early in June when she gets clear of the
Nore; it is mid-June when the Orkneys and Stornaway are
left behind ; it is August when the frozen Straits of Hudson
are pierced; and the end of the month has been reached
when the ship comes to anchor off the sand-barred mouth
of the Nelson River. For one year the stores that she has
p2

212 THE GREAT LONE LAND.

brought lie in the warchouses of York factory; twelve
months later they reach Red River; twelve months later
again they reach Fort Simpson on the Mackenzie. That
rough flint-gun, which might have done duty in the days of
the Stuarts, is worth many a rich sable in the country of
the Dogribs and the Loucheaux, and is bartered for skins
whose value can be rated at four times their weight in gold;
but the gun on the banks of the Thames and the gun in the
pine woods of the Mackenzie are two widely different articles.
The old rough flint, whose bent barrel the Indians will often
straighten between the cleft of a tree or the erevice of a
rock, has been made precious by the long labour of many
men; by the trackless wastes through which it has been
carried ; by winter-famine of those who have to vend it; by
the years which elapse between its departure from the work-
shop and the return of that skin of sable or silver-fox for
which it has been bartered. They are short-sighted men
who hold that because the flint-eun and the sable possess
such different values in London, these articles should also
possess their relative values in North America, and argue
from this that the Hudson Bay Company treat the Indians
unfairly ; they are short-sighted men, I say, and know not
of what they speak. That old rough flint has often cost
more to put in the hands of that Dogrib hunter than the
hest finished central fire of Boss or Purdey. But that is
not all that has to be said about the trade of this Company.
Free trade may be an admirable institution for some
nations—making them, amongst other things, very much
more liable to national destruction; but it by no means
follows that it should he adapted equally well to the savage
‘Indian. Unfortunately for the universality of British insti-
“tutions, free trade has invariably been found to improve the
red man from the fuee of the earth. Free trade in furs

THE GREAT LONE LAND. 213

means dear beavers, dear martens, dear minks, and dear
otters; and all these “dears” mean whisky, alcohol, high wine,
and poison, which in their turn mean, to the Indian, murder,
disease, smalJ~pox, and death. There is uo use to tell me
that these four dears and their four corvllaries ought not to
be associated with free trade, an institution which is so pre-
eminently pure; I only answer that these things have ever
been associated with free trade in furs, and I see no reason
whatever to behold in our present day amongst traders,
Indian, or, for that matter, English, any very remarkable
reformation in the principles of trade. Now the Hudson
Bay Company are in the position of men who have taken a
valuable shooting for a very long term of years or for a per-
petuity, and who therefore are desirous of preserving for 2
future time the game which they bunt, and also of preserv-
ing the hunters and trappers who are their servants. The
free trader is as a man who takes his shooting for the term
of a year or two and wishes to destroy all he can. fe has
tivo objects in view ; first, to get the furs himself, second,
to prevent the other traders from getting them. “If I
cannot get them, then he shan’t. Hunt, hunt, hont, kill,
kill, kil; next year may take eare of itself.” One word
more. Other companies and other means have been tried
to carry on the Indian trade and to protect the interests of
the Indians, but all have fuiled ; from Texas to the Saskat-
chewan there has been but one result, and that result has
been the destruction of the wild animals and the extinction,

214 THE GREAT LONE LAND.

moceassins got ready. These precautions were necessary,
for before us there now lay a great open region with tree-
less expanses that were sixty miles across them—a vast tract
of rolling hill and plain over which, for three hundred miles,
there lay no fort or house of any kind.

Bidding adieu to my host, a young Scotch gentleman, at
Fort Ellice, my little party turned once more towards the
North-west and, fording the Qu’Appelle five miles above its
confluence with the Assineboine, struck out into a lovely coun-
try. It was the last day of October and almost the last of the
Indian summer. Clear and distinct lay the blue sky upon
the quiet sun-lit prairie. The horses trotted briskly on under
the charge of an English half-breed named Daniel. Pierre
Diome had returned to Red River, and Daniel was to bear
me company as far as Carlton on the North Saskatchewan.
My five horses were now beginning to show the effect of
their incessant work, but it was only in appearance, and the
distance travelled each day was increased. instead of dimi-
uished as we journcyed on. I could not have believed it
possible that horses could travel the daily distance which
mine did without breaking down altogether under it, still
less would it have appeared possible upon the food which
they had to eat. We had neither hay nor oats to give
them ; there was nothing but the dry grass of the prairie,
and no time to eat that but the cold frosty hours of the
night. Still we seldom travelied less than fifty miles a-day,
stopping only for one hour at midday, and going on again
until night began to wrap her mantle around the shiver-
ing prairie. My horse’ was a wonderful animal; day after
day would I fear that. his game little limbs were growing
weary, and that soon he must give out; but no, not a bit
of it; his black coat roughened and his flanks grew a little
leaner, but still he went on as gamely and as pluckily as ever.

ACKOSS THE PLAINS EX NOVEMBER,

TUE GREAT LONE LAND. 215

Often during the long day I would dismount and walk
along leading him by the bridle, while the other two men
and the six horses jogged on far in advance; when they
had disappeared altogether behind some distant ridge of the
prairie my little horse would commence to look anxiously
around, whinnying and trying to get along after his com-
rades; and then how gamely he trotted on when I remounted,
watching out for the first sign of his friends again, far-away
little specks on the great wilds before us. When the camp-
ing place would be reached at nightfall the first care went
to the horse. To remove saddle, bridle, and saddle-cluth,
to untie the strip of soft buffalo leather from his neck and
twist it well around his fore-legs, for the purpose of hobbling,
was the work of only a few minutes, and then poor Blackie
hobbled away to find over the darkening expanse his night’s
provender. Before our own supper of pemmican, half-baked
bread, and tea had been discussed, we always drove the band
of horses down to some frozen Jake hard by, and Danicl
cut with the axe little drinking holes in the ever-thicken-
ing ice; then up would bubble the water and down went
the heads of the thirsty horses for a long pull at the too-
often bitter spring, for in this region between the <Assinc-
boine and the South Saskatchewan folly half the lakes
and pools that lie scattered about in vast variety are harsh
with salt and alkalis, Three horses always ran loose while
the other three worked in harness. These loose horses, one
might imagine, would be prone to gallop away when they
found themselves at liberty to do so: but nothing seems
farther from their thoughts; they trot along by the side of
their harnessed comrades apparently as though they knew
all about it; now and again they stop behind, to cropa bit of
grass or tempting stalk of wild pea or vetches, but on they
come again until the party has been veached, then, with

216 TILE GREAT LONE LAND.

ears thrown back, the jog-trot is resumed, and the whole
band sweeps on over hill and plain. To halt and change
horses is only the work of two minutes—out comes one
horse, the other is standing close by and never stirs while
the hot harness is being put upon him; im he goes into the
rough shafts, and, with a erack of the half-breed’s whip
across his flanks, away we start again.

But my little Blackie seldom got a respite from
the saddle; he seemed so well up to his work, so much
stronger and better than any of the others, that day after
day Irode him, thinking eacb day, “ Well, to-morrow I will
let him ran loose; but when to-morrow came he used to
luok so fresh and well, carrying his little head as high
as ever, that again I put the saddle on his back, and
another day’s talk and companionship would still further
cement our friendship, for I grew to like that horse as one
only can like the poor dumb beast that serves us. I know
not how it is, but horse and dog have worn themselves into
my heart as few men have ever done in life; and now, as
day by day went by in one long scene of true companion-
ship, I came to feel for little Blackie a friendship not the
less sincere because all the service was upon his side, and I
was powerless to make his supper a better one, or give him
a more cosy lodging for the night. He fed and lodged
himself and he carried me—all he asked in return was a.
water-hole in the frozen lake, and that I eut for him.
Sometimes the night came down upon us still in the midst
of a great open trecless plain, without shelter, water, or
grass, and then we would continue on in the inky darkness
as though our march was to last eternally, and poor Blackie
would step out as if his natural state was one of perpetual
motion, On the 4th November we rode over sixty miles ;
and when at length the camp was made in the lea ofa little

THE GREAT LONE LAND, 217

clump of bare willows, the snow was lying cold upon the
prairies, and Blackie and his comrades went out to shiver
through their supper in the bleakest scene my eyes had
ever looked upon.

About midway between Fort Ellice and Carlton a sudden
and well-defined change occurs in the character of the
country; the light soil disappears, and its place is sue-
ceeded by a rich dark loam covered deep in grass and
vetches. Beautiful hills swell in slopes more or less abrupt
on all sides, while lakes fringed with thickets and clumps
of good-sized poplar balsam lie lapped in their fertile hollows.

This region bears the name of the Touchwood Hills.
Around it, far into endless space, stretch immense plains of
bare and scanty vegetation, plains seared with the tracks of
countless buffalo which, until a few years ago, were wont to
roam in vast herds between the Assineboine and the Saskat-
ehewan. Upon whatever side the eye turns when crossing
these great expanses, the same wrecks of the monarch of the
prairie lie thickly strewn over the surface. Hundreds of
thousands of skeletons dot the short scant grass; and when
fire has laid barer' still the level surface, the bleached ribs
and skulls of long-killed bison whiten far and near the dark
burnt prairie. There is something unspeakably melancholy
in the aspect of this portion of the North-west. From one
of the westward jutting spurs of the Touchwood Hills the
eye sees far away over an immense plain; the sun goes
down, and as he sinks upon the carth the straight line of
the horizon becomes visible for a moment across his lood-
red dise, but so distant, so far away, that it seems dream-
like in its immensity. There is not a sound in theair or on
the earth ; on every side lie spread the relies of the great
fight waged by man against the brute creation ; all is silent
and deserted—the Indian and the bullule gone, the settler

218 JHE GREAT LONE LAND.

not yet come. You turn quickly to the right or left ; over
a hill-top, close by, a solitary wolf steals away. Quickly
the vast prairic begins to grow dim, and darkness forsakes
the skies because they light their stars, coming down to
seck in the utter solitude of the blackened plains a kindred
spirit for the night.

On the night of the 4th November we made our camp
long after dark in a little clamp of willows far out in the
plain which lies west of the Touchwood Hills. We had
missed the only lake that was known to lie in this part of
the plain, and after journeying far in the darkness halted
at length, determined to go supperless, or next to sapperless,
to bed, for pemmican without that cup which nowhere tastes
more delicious than in the wilds of the North-west would
prove but sorry comfort, and the supper without tea would be
only a delusion. The fire was made, the frying-pan taken
out, the bag of dried buffalo meat and the block of pemmi-
can got ready, but we said little in the presence of Sach a
loss as the steaming kettle and the hot, delicious, fragrant
tex. Why not have provided against this evil hour by

bringing on from the last frozen lake some blocks of ice?

Alas! why not? Moodily we sat down zound the blazing
willows. Meantime Daniel commenced to unroll the oil-
cloth cart cover—and lo, in the ruddy glare of the fire, out
rolled three or fourdarge pieces of thick, heavy ice, sufficient
to fill our kettle three times over with delicious tea. Oh,
what a joy it was! and how we relished that cup! for re~
member, cynical friend who may be inclined to hold such
happiness cheap and light, that this wild life of ours is a
curious leveller of civilized habits—a cup of water to a
thirsty man ¢an be more valuable than a eup of diamonds,
and the value of one article over the other is only the ques-
tion of a few hours’ privation. When the morning of the

THE GREAT LONE LAND. 219

5th dawned we were covered deep in suow, a storm had
burst in the night, and all around was hidden in a dense
sheet of driving snow-flakes; not a vestige of our horses
was to be seen, their tracks were obliterated by the fast-
falling snow, and the surrounding objects close at hand
showed dim and indistinct through the white cloud. After
a fruitless search, Daniel returned to camp with the tidings
that the horses were nowhere to be found ; so, when break-
fast had been finished, all three set out in separate directions
to look again forthe missing steeds. Keeping the snow-storm
on my left shoulder, I went along through little clumps of
stunted bushes which frequently deceived me by their re-
semblance through the driving snow to horses grouped to-
gether. After awhile I bent round towards the wind and,
making a long sweep in that direction, bent again so as to
bring the drift upon my right shoulder. No horses, no
tracks any where—nothing but a waste of white drifting
flake and feathery snow-spray. At last I turned away from
the wind, and soon struck full on our little camp ; neither of
th others had returned. I eut down some willows and made
ablaze. After a while I got on to the top of the cart, and
looked out again into the waste. Presently I heard a distant
shout ; replying vigorously to it, several indistinct forms
came into view, avd Daniel soon emerged from the mist,
driving before him the hobbled wanderers ; they had been
hidden under the lea of a thicket some distance off; all clus-
tered together for shelter and warmth. Our only difficulty
was now the absence of my friend the Hudson Bay officer.
We waited some time, and at length, putting the saddle on
Blackie, I started out in the direction he had taken. Svon
I heard a faint far-away shout; riding quickly in the direc-
tion from whence it proceeded, I heard the ealls getting louder
and louder, and son came up with a figure heading right

220 THE GREAT LONE LAND.

away into the immense plain, going altogether in a direction
opposite to where our camp Jay. I skéuted, and back came
my friend no little pleased te find his road again, for a snow-
storm is no eas~ thing to steer through, and at times it
will even fall out that not the Indian with all his craft and
instinct for direction will be able to find his way through
its blinding maze. Woe betide the wretched man who at
such a time finds himself alone upon the prairie, without fire
or the means of making it; not even the ship-wrecked suilor
clinging to the floating mast is in a more pitiable strait.
During the greater portion of this day 1t snowed hard, but
our track was distinctly marked across the plains, and we
held on all day. I still rode Blackie; the little fellow had
‘to keep his wits at work to avoid tumbling into the badger
holes which the snow soon rendered invisible. These badger
holes in this portion of the plains were very numerous; it is
not always easy to avoid them when the ground is clear of
snow, but riding becomes extremely difficult when once the
winter has sctin. The badger burrows straight down for two
or three feet, and if a horse be travelling at any pace his full
is so sudden and violent that a broken leg is too often the
result. Once or twice Blackie went in nearly to the shoul-
der, but he invariably scrambled up again all right—poor
fellow, he was reserved for a worse fate, and his long journey
was near its end! <A clear cold day followed the day of
snow, and for the first time the thermometer fell below zero.

Day dawned upon us on the 6th November camped
in a little thicket of poplars some seventy miles from
the. South Saskatchewan; the thermometer stood 3° be-
low zero, and as I drew the girths tight on poor Blackie’s
ribs that morning, I felt happy in the thought that I had
slept for the first time under the stars with 35° of
frost Iyiug on the blanket outside. Another long day’s

THE GREAT LONE LAND. 221

ride, and the last great treeless plain was crossed and
evening found us camped near the Minitchinass, or Solitary
Fill, some sixteen miles south-east of the South Saskatehe-
wan. The grass again grew long and thick, the clumps
of willow, poplar, and birch had reappeared, and the soil,
when we seraped the snow away to make our sleeping
place, turned up black and rich-looking under the blows
of the axe. About midday on the 7th November, in a
driving storm of snow, we snddenly emerged upon a high
plateau. Before us, at a little distance, a great gap or
valley seemed to open suddenly out, and farther off the
white sides of hills and dark tree-tops rose into view.
Riding to the edge of this steep valley I beheld a magnifi-
' eent river flowing between great banks of ice and snow
300 feet below the level on which we stood. Upon each
side masses of ice stretched out far into the river, but in the
centre, between these banks of ice, ran a swift, black-look-
ing current, the sight of which for a moment filled us with
dismay. We had counted upon the Saskatchewan being
firmly locked in ice, and here was the river rolling along
between its icy banks forbidding all passage. Descending to
the low valley of the river, we halted for dinner, determined
to try some method by which to cross this formidable
barrier. An examination of the river and its banks soon
revealed the difficulties before us. The ice, as it approached
the open portion, was unsafe, rendering it impossible to
get within reach of the running water. An interval of
some ten yards separated the sound ice from the current,
while nearly 100 yards of solid ice lay between the true
bank of the river and the dangerous portion; thus our
first labour was to make a solid footing for ourselves from
which to launch any raft or make-shift boat which we
might construct. After 2 great deal of trouble and labour,

999 TNE GREAT LONE LAND.

we got the waggon-box roughly fashioned into a raft,
covered over with one of our large oil-cloths, and lashed
together with buffalo leather. This most primitive looking
eraft we carried down over the ice to where the dangerous
portion commenced; then Daniel, wielding the axe with
powerful dexterity, began to hew away at the ice until
space enough was opened out to fioat our raft upon. Into
this we slipped the waggon-box, and into the waggon-box
we put the halfbreed Daniel. It floated admirably, and
on went the axe-man, hewing, as before, with might and
main. It was cold, wet work, and, in spite of every thing,
the water began to ooze through the oil-cloth into the
waggon-box. We had to haul it up, empty it, and launch
again; thus for some hours we kept on, cold, wet, and
miserable, until night forced us to desist and make our
camp on the tree-lined shore. So we hauled in the waggon
and retired, baffled, but not beaten, to begin again next
morning. There were many reasdiis,to make this delay
feel vexatious and disappointing; we had travelled. a
distance of 560 miles in twelve days; travelled only to
find ourselves stopped by this partially frozen river at a
point twenty miles distant from Carlton, the first great
station on my journey. Our stock of provisions, too, was
not such as would admit of much delay; pemmican and
dried meat we had none, and flour, tea, and grease were
all that remained to us. However, Daniel declared that
he knew a most excellent method of making a combination
of fleur and fat which would allay all disappointment—and
I must conscientiously admit that a more hunger-satiating
mixture than he produced out of the frying-pan it had
never before been my lot to taste. A little of it went
such a long way, that it would be impossible to find a
parallel for it in portability ; in fact, it went such a long

- THE GREAT LONE LAND. 293

way, that the person who dined off it found himself, by
common reciprocity of feeling, bound to go a long way in
return before he again partook of it; but Daniel was not
of that’ opinion, for he ate the greater portion of our united
shares, and slept peacefully when it was all gone. I would
particularly recommend this mixture to the consideration
of the guardians of the poor thronghout the United King-
dom, as I know of nothing which would so readily conduce
to the satisfaction of the hungry element in our society.
Had such a combination been known to Bumble and his
Board, the hanger of Twist would even have been satisfied
by a single helping; but, perhaps, it might be injudicious
to introduce. into the sister island any condiment so anti-
dotal in its’ nature to the removal of the Celt across the
Atlantic—that “ consummation so devoutly wished for” by
the “leading journal.”

Fortified by Daniel’s delicacy, we set to worl: early next
morning at raft-making and ice-cutting; but we made
the attempt to cross at a portion of the river where the
open water was narrower and the bordering ice sounded
more firm to the testing blows of the axe. One part of the
river had now closed in, but the icc over it was unsafe. We
succeeded in getting the craft into the running water and,
having strung together all the available line and rope we
possessed, prepared for the venture. It was found that
the waggon-boat would only carry one passenger, and
accordingly I took my place in it, and with a make-shift
paddle put out into the quick-running stream. The
eurrent had great power over the ill-shaped craft, and it
was no easy matter to kcep her head at all against stream.

I had not got five yards out wlien the whole thing
commenced to fill rapidly with water, and I had just
time to get back again to ice before she was quite full.

224, TNE GREAT LONE LAND.

We hauled her out once more, and found the oil-cloth
had been eut by the jagged ice, so there was nothing
for it but to remove it altogether and put on another.
This was done, and soon our waggon-box was once again
afloat. This time I reached in safety the farther side;
but there a difficulty arose which we had not foreseen.
Along this farther edge of ice the current ran with great
force, and as the leather Ime which was attached to the
back of the boat sank deeper and deeper into the water,
the drag upon it caused the boat to drift quicker and
quicker downstream; thus, when I touched the opposite
ice, [ found the drift was so rapid that my axe failed to
catch a hold in the yielding edge, which broke away at
every stroke. After several ineffectual attempts to stay
the rush of the boat, and as I was being bome rapidly into
a mass of rushing water and huge blocks of ice, I saw it
was all up, and shouted to the others to rope in the line;
but this was no easy matter, because the rope had got foul
of the running ice, and was caught underneath. ‘At last,
by careful handling, it was freed, and I stood once more
on the spot from whence I had started, having crossed the
River Saskatchewan to no purpose. Daniel now essayed the
task, and reached the opposite shore, taking the precaution
to work up the nearer side before crossing; once over, his
vigorous use of the axe told on the ice, and he succeeded
in fixing the boat against the edge. Then he quickly clove
his way into the frozen mass, and, by repeated blows, finally
reached a spot from which he got on shore.

This success of our long labour and exertion was an- .
nounced to the solitude by three ringing cheers, which we
gave from our side; for, be it remembered, that it was now
our intention to use the waggon-boat to convey across all
our baggage, towing the boat from one side to the other

THE GREAT LONE LAND. 995

by means of our line; after which, we would force the
horses to swim the river, and then cross ourselves in the
boat. But all our plans were defeated by an unlooked-for
accident ; the line lay deep in the water, as before, and to
raise it required no small amount of force. We hauled
and hauled, until snap went the long rope somewhere
underneath the water, and all was over. With no little
difficulty Daniel got the boat across again to our side,
and-we all went back to camp wet, tired, and dispirited
by so much labour and so many misfortunes. It froze
hard that night, and in the morning the great river had its
waters altogether hidden opposite our camp by a covering
of ice. Would it bear? that was the question. We went
ou it early, testing with axe and sharp-pointed poles. In
places it was very thin, but in other parts it rang hard
and solid to the blows. The dangerous spot was in the very
centre of the river, where the water had shown through in
round holes on the previous day, but we hoped to avoid
these bad places by taking a slanting course across the
channel. After walking backwards and forwards several
times, we determined to try a light horse. He was led
out with a Iong piece of rope attached to his neck. In
the centre of the stream the ice seemed to bend slightly
as he passed over, but no break occurred, and in safety
we reached the opposite side. Now came Blackie’s turn.
Somehow or other I felé uncomfortable about it and re~
marked that the horse ought to have his shoes removed
before the attempt was made. My companion, however,
demurred, and his experience in these matters had extended
over so many years, that I was foolishly induced to allow
him t6 proceed as he thought fit, even against my better
judgment. Blackie was taken out, led as before, tied by along
line. I followed close behind him, to drive him if necessary.
Q

226 —C. TITE GREAT LONE LAND:

Ile did not need much driving, but took the ice quite readily.
We had got to the centre of the river, when the surface
suddenly bent downwards, and, to my horror, the poor horse
plunged deep into: black,. quick-running water! He was
not three yards in front of me when the ice broke. I
recoiled involuntarily. from the black, seething chasm ;
the horse, though he plunged suddenly down, never let his
head under water, but kept swimming manfully round and:
round the narrow hole, trying all be could to get upon the
ice. All his efforts were useless; a erucl wall of sharp ice
struck his knees as -he tried to lift them on the surface,
and the current, running with immense velocity, repeatedly
earried him back underneath. As soon as the horse had:
broken through, the man who held the rope let it go, and
the leather line flew back about poor Blackie’s head. I
got up almost to the edge of the hole, and stretching out.
took hold of the line again; but that could do no good:
nor give him any assistance in his struggles. I shall never
forget the way the poor brute looked at me—even now,.as
I write these lines, the whole scene comes back. in memory
with all the vividness of a picture, and I feel again the
horrible sensation of being utterly unable, though almost:
within toucking distance, to give him help in his dire
extremity—and. if ever dumb: animal spoke with un-
utterable eloquence, that horse called to me in his agony ;
he turned to me as to one from. whom he had a right to
expect assistance. I could not stand the scene any longer:

“ Ts there no help for him?” I cried to the other men. "

“None whatever,” was the reply ; “ the ice is dangerous
all around.” ;

Then I rushed back to the shore and up to the eamp
where my rifle lay, then back again to the fatal spot where
the poor beast still struggled against his fate. As I raised

THE GREAT LONE LAND. 227

the mifle he looked at me so imploringly that my hand
shook and trembled. Another instant, and the deadly bullet
erashed through his head, and, with one look never to be
forgotten, he went down under the cold, unpitying ice !

Ié may have been very foolish, perhaps, for poor Blackie
was only a horse, but for all that I went back to camp,
and, sitting down in the snow, cried likea child. With my
own hand I had taken my poor friend’s life ; but if there
should exist somewhere in the regions of space that happy
Indian paradise where horses are never hungry and never
tired, Blackie, at least, will forgive the hand that sent
him there, if he can but see the heart that long regretted
him.

Leaving Daniel in charge of the remaining horses, we
crossed on foot the fatal river, and with a single horse
set out for Carlton. From the high north bank I took
ene last look back at the South Saskatchewan—it lay in its
broad deep: valley glittering in one great band of purest
snow ; but I loathed the sight of it, while the small round

‘ open hole, dwarfed to a speck by distance, marked the spot
where my poor horse had found his grave, after having
carried me so faithfully through the long lonely wilds.
We had travelled about six miles when a figure appeared
in sight; coming towards us upon the same track. The
new-comer proved to be a Cree Indian travelling to Fort
Pelly. He bore the name of the Starving Bull. Starving
Bull and his boy at once turncd back with us towards
Carlton. In a little while 2 party of horsemen hove
in sight: they had come out from the fort to visit the
South Branch, and amongst them was the Hudson Bay
officer in charge of the station. Our first question had
reference to the plague. Like a fire, it had burned itself
out. There was no case then in the fort ; but out of the little

Q 2

298 THE GREAT LONE LAND.

garrison of some sixty souls no fewer than thirty-two had
perished! Four only had recovered of the thirty-six who
had taken the terrible infection.

We halted for dinner by the edge of the Duck Lake,
midway between the North and South Branches of the
Saskatchewan. It was a rich, beautiful country, although
the snow lay some inches deep. Clumps of trees dotted the
undulating surface, and lakelets glittering in the bright
sunshine spread out in sheets of dazzling whiteness.
The Starving Bull set himself busily to work preparing
our dinner. What it would have been under ordinary
circumstances, I cannot state; but, unfortunately for its
success on the present occasion, its preparation was
attended with unusual drawbacks. Starving Bull had
succeeded in killing a skunk during his journey. This per-
formance, while highly creditable to his energy as a hunter,
was by no means conducive to his success as a cook.
Bitterly did that skunk revenge himself upon us who had
bore no part in his destruction. Pemmican is at no time
a delicacy ; but pemmican flavoured with skunk was more
than I could attempt. However, Starving Bull proved
himself worthy of his name, and the frying-pan was soon
scraped clean under his hungry manipulations.

' Another hour’s ride brought us to a high bank, at the
base of which lay the North Saskatchewan. In the low
ground adjoining the river stood Carlton House, a large
square enclosure, the wooden walls of which were more than
twenty feet” in height. Within these palisades some dozen
or more houses stood crowded together. Close by, to the
right, many snow-covered mounds with a few rough wooden
crosses above them marked the spot where, only four weeks
before, the last victira of the epidemic had been Jaid. On
the very spot where I stood looking at this scene, a Black-

THE GREAT LONE LAND. 929

foot Indian, three years earlier, had stolen out from a thicket,
fired at, and grievously wounded the Hudson Bay officer
belonging to the fort, and now close to the same spot 2
small cross marked that officer’s last resting-place. Strange
fate! he had escaped the Blackfoot’s bullet only to be the
first to succumb to the deadly epidemic. I cannot say that
Carlton was at all a lively place of sojourn. Its natural
gloom was considerably deepened by the events of the last
few months, and the whole place seemed to have received
the stamp of death upon it. To add to the general depres-
sion, provisions were by no means abundant, the few
Indians that had come in from the plains brought the same
tidings of unsuccessful chase—for the buffalo were “ far
out” on the great prairie, and that phrase “far out,”
applied to buffalo, means starvation in the North-west,

230 THE GREAT LONE LAND.

CHAPTER XV.

Tre Saskatcrewax--Start rrom Carittoy—Witp Manes—Lose
our War—A Loxe Rmre—Barme River—MIsrAwsssis TUB
_ Cree—A Dance.

Two things strike the new-comer at Carlton. First,
he sees evidences on every side of a rich and fertile
country; and, secondly, he sees by many signs that war
is the normal condition of the wild men who have pitched
their’ tents in the land of the Saskatchewan — that
land from which we have taken the Indian prefix Kis,
without much improvement of length or euphony. Itisa
name but little known to the ear of the outside world, but
destined one day or other to fill its place in the Jong list of
lands whose surface yields back to man, in manifold, the
toil of his brain and hand. Its boundaries are of the
simplest description, and it is as well to begin with them.
Jt has on the north a huge forest, on the west a huge
mountain, on the south an immense desert, on the east an
immense marsh. From the forest to the desert there lies a
distance varying from 4¢ to 150 miles, and from the marsh
to the mountain, $00 miles of land Jie spread in every vary-
ing phase of undulating fertility. This is the Fertile Belt,
the land of the Saskatchewan, the winter home of the
buffalo, the war country of the Crees and Blackfect,
the future home of millions yet unborn. Few men have
looked on this land—but the thoughts of many in the New
World tend towards it, and crave for description and fact

THE GREAT LONE LAND. 231

which in many instances can only be given to them at
second-hand.

Like all things in this world, the Saskatchewan has its
poles of opinion ; there are those who paint it a paradise,
‘and those who picture ita hell. It is unfit for habitation,
it is to be the garden-spot of America—it is too cold, it is
too dry—it is too beautiful; and, in reality, whatisit? I
answer in a few words. It is rich; it is fertile; it is fair
to the eye. Man lives long in it, and the children of his
body are cast in manly mould. The cold of winter is in-
tense, the strongest heat of summer is not excessive. The
autumn days are bright and beautiful; the snow is seldom
deep, the frosts are early to come and late to go. All
crops flourish, though primitive and rude are the means by
which they are tilled ; timber is in places plentiful, in other
places scarce ; grass grows high, thick, and rich. Horses
winter out, and are round-careased, and fat in spring.
The lake-shores are deep in hay; lakelets every where.
Rivers close in mid-November and open in mid-April.
The lakes teem with fish; and such fish! fit for the table of
a prince, but disdained at the feast of the Indian. The
river-heads lie all in a forest region ; and it is midsummer
when their water has reached its highest level. Through
the Jand the red man stalks; war, his unceasing toil—
horse-raiding, the pastime of his life. How long has the
Indian thus warred?——-since he has been known to the
white man, and long before.

In 1776 the earliest English voyager iv these regions
speaks of war between the Assineboines and their trouble-
some western nei¢hbours, the Snake and Blackfeet Indians.
But war was older than the era of the earliest white man,
older probably than the Indian himself; for, from what-
ever branch of the human race his stock is sprung, the

932 THE GREAT LONE LAND.

lesson of warfare was in all cases the same to him. To say
he fights is, after all, but to say he is a man; for whether it
be in Polynesia or in Paria, in the Saskatchewan or in Sweden,
in Bundeleund or in Bulgaria, fighting is just the one uni-
versal “touch of nature which makes the whole world kin.’’

“My good brothers,” said a missionary friend of mine,
some little while ago, to an assemblage of Crees—“ My
good brothers, why do you carry on this unceasing war
with the Blackfeet and Peaginoos, with Sircies and Bloods?
Jt is not goed, it is not right; the great Manitou does not
Jike his children to kill each other, but he wishes them to
live in peace and brctherhood.”

To which the Cree chief made auswer—* My friend,
what you say is good; but look, you are white man and
Christian, we are red men and worship the Manitou; but
what is the news we hear from the traders and the black-
robes? Is it not always the news of war? The Kitchi-
Mokamans (i.e. the Americans) are on the war-path against
their brethren of the South, the English are fighting some
tribes far away over the big lake; the French, and all the
other tribes are fighting too! My brother, it is news of
war, always news of war! and we—we go on the war-path
in small numbers. We stop when we kill a few of our
enemies and take a few scalps; but your nations go to war
in countless thousands, and we hear of more of your braves
laled in one battle than all our tribe numbers together.
So, my brother, do not say to us that it is wrong to go on
the war-path, for what is right for the white man cannot
be wrong in his red brother. I have done!”

During the seven days which I remained at Carlton the
winter was not idle. It snowed and froze, and looked
dreary enough within the darkening walls of the fort. A
Fr.nch missionary had come down from the northern lake

THE GREAT LONE LAND: 233

of Isle-A-la-Crosse, but, unlike his brethren, he appeared shy
and uncommunicative. Two of the stories which he re-
lated, however, deserve record. One was a singular magnetic
storm which took place at Isle-i-la-Crosse during the
preceding winter. A party of Indians and half-breeds
were crossing the lake on the ice when suddenly their hair
stood up on end; the hair of the dogs also turned the wrong
way, and the blankets belonging to the party even evinced
signs of acting in an upright manner. I will not pretend
to account for this phenomenon, but merely tell it as the
worthy pere told it to me, and I shall rest perfectly satistied if
my readers’ hair does not follow the example of the Indians’
i¢s and blankets and proceed generally after the manner of
eae “frightful poreupine.” The other tale told by the pére
wos of a more tragical nature. During a storm in the
yeairies near the South Branch of the Saskatchewan a
rain of fire saddenly descended upon a camp of Cree-Indians
and burned every thing around. Thirty-two Crees perished in
the flames; the ground was burned deeply for a considerable
distance, and only one or two of the party who happened to
stand close to a lake were saved by throwing themselves
into the water. ‘It was,” said my informant, “not a flash
of lightning, but a rain of fire which descended for some
moments.”

The increasing severity of the frost hardened into a solid
mass the surface of the Saskatchewan, and on the morning of
the 14th November we set out again upon our Western jour-
ney. The North Saskatchewan which I now crossed for the
first time, is a river 400 yards in width, lying between banks
descending steeply to a low alluvial valley. These outer banks
are some 200 feet in height, and in some by-gone age were
doubtless the boundaries of the majestic stream that then
rolled between them. J had nowa new band of horses num-

234. THE GREAT LONE LAND.

bering altogether nine head, but three of them were wild
brood mares that had never before been in harness, and Jaugh-
able was the scene that ensued at starting. The snow was
now sufficiently deep to prevent wheels running with ease, so
we substituted two small horse-sleds for the Red River cart;
and into these sleds the wild mares were put. At first they
refused to move an inch—no, not an inch; then came loud
and prolonged thwacking from a motley assemblage of Crees
and half-breeds. Ropes, shanganappi, whips, and sticks
_ were freely used; then, like an arrow out of a bow, away
went the mare; then suddenly a dead stop, two or three
plunges high in air, and down flat upon the ground. Again
the thwacking, and again suddenly up starts the mare
and off like a rocket. Shanganappi harness is tough stuff
and a broken sled is easily set to rights, or else we would
have been inabad way. But for all horses in the North-west
there is the very simplest manner of persuasion : if the horse
lies down, lick him until he gets up; if he stands up on his
hind-legs, lick him until he reverts to his original position;
if he bucks, jibs, or kicks, liek him, lick him, lick him; when
you are tired of licking him; get another man to continue
the process; if you can use violent Janguage in three
different: tongues so much the ‘better, but if -you cannot
imprecate frecly at least in French, you will have a bad time
of it. Thus we started from Carlton, and, crossing the wide
‘Saskatchewan, held our way south-west for the Eagle
Hills. It was yet the dusk of the carly morning, but as
we climbed the steep northern bank the sun was beginning to
lift himself above the horizon. Looking back, beneath lay
the wide frozen river, and beyond the solitary fort still
wrapped in shade, the trees glistened pure and white on the
high-rolling bank beside me, and the untrodden snow
stretehed far away in dazzling brilliancy. -Our course now

THE GREAT LONE LAND. 935

lay to the south of west, and our pace was even faster than
it had been in the days of poor Blackie. About midday
we entered upon avast tract of burnt country, the unbroken
snow filling the hollows of the ground beneath it, For-
tunately, just at camping-time we reached a hill-side
whose grass and tangled vetches had escaped the fire, and
here we pitched our camp for the night. Around rose hills
whose sides were covered with the traces of fire—destroyed
forests, and a lake lay close beside us, wrapped in ice and
snow. A small winter-station had been established by the
Hudson Bay Company at a point some ninety miles
distant from Carlton, opposite the junction of the Battle
River with the North Saskatchewan. There, it was said,
a large camp of Crees had assembled, and to this post we
were now directing our steps.

On the morning of the second day out from Carlton, the
guide showed symptoms of haziness as to direction: he
began to bend greatly to the south, and at sunrise he
aseended a high hill for the purpose of taking a general
survey of the surrounding country. From this hill the
eye ranged over a vast extent of landscape, and although
the guide failed altogether to correct his course, the hill-top
yielded such a glorious view of sun rising froma sea of
snowinto an ocean of pale green barred with pink and crimson
streaks, that I felt well repaid for the trouble of the long
ascent. When evening closed around us that day, I found
myself alone amidst a wild, weird scene. Far as the eye
could reach in front znd +o the right a boundless, treeless
plain stretched into unseen distance; to the left a range of
steep hills rose abruptly from the plain; over all the night
was coming down. Long before sunset I had noticed a
clump of trees many miles ahead, and thought that in this
solitary thicket we would make our camp for the night.

236 THE GREAT LONE LAND.

Hours passed away, and yet the solitary clump seemed as dis-
tant as ever—nay, more, it even appeared to grow smaller as
Lapproached it. Atlast, just at dusk, I drew near the wished-
for camping-place; but lo! it was nothing but a single bush.
My clump had vanished, my eamping-place had gone, the
mirage had been playing tricks with the little bush and
magnifying it into a grove of aspens. When night fell
there was no trace of camp or companions, but the snow-
marks showed that I was still upon the right track. On
again for two hours in darkness—often it was so dark that
it was only by giving the horse his head that he was able
to smell out the hoofs of his comrades in the partially-
covered grass of frozen swamp and moorland. No living
thing stirred, save now and then a prairie owl flitting
through the gloom added to the sombre desolation of the
scene. At last the trail turned suddenly towards a deep
ravine to the left. Riding to the edge of this ravine, the
welcome glare of a fire glittering through a thick sereen of
bushes struck my eye. The guide had hopelessly lost his
way, and after thirteen hours’ hard riding we were lucky to
find this cosy nook in the tree-sheltered valley. The
Saskatchewan was close beside us, and the dark ridges
beyond were the Eagle Hills of the Battle River.

Early next forenoon we reached the camp of Crees and
the winter post of the Hudson Bay Company some distance
above the confluence of the Battle River with the Saskatche-
wan. A wild scene of confusion followed our entry into the
camp; braves and squaws, dogs and papooses crowded round,
and it was difficult work to get to the door of the little shanty
where the Hudson Bay officer dwelt. Fortunately, there
was no small-pox in this crowded camp, although many
traces of its effects were to be seen in the seared and dis-

“figured faces around, and in none more than my host, who had

THE GREAT LONE LAND. 937

been one of the four that had recovered at Carlton. He
was a splendid specimen of a half-breed, but his handsome
face was awfully marked by the terrible scourge. This
assemblage of Crees was under the leadership of Mistawassis,
a man of small and slight stature, but whose bravery had
often been tested in fight against the Blackfeet. He was
a man of quict and dignified manner, a good listener, a
fluent speaker, as much at his ease and as free from restraint
as any lord in Christendom. He hears the news I have to
tell him through the interpreter, bending his head in assent
to every sentence; then he pauses a bit and speaks. “He
wishes to know if aught can be done against the Blackfeet ;
they are troublesome, they are fond of war; he has scen
war for many years, and he would wish for peace; it is
only the young men, who want scalps and the soft words
of the squaws, who desire war.” Itell him that “the Great
Mother wishes her red children to live at peace; but what
is the use? do they not themselves break the peace when
it is made, and is not the war as often commenced by the
Crees as by the Blackfeet?” He says that “men have
told them that the white man was coming to take their
lands, that the white braves were coming to the country,
and he wished to know if it was true.” “If the white braves
did come,” I replied, “it would be to protect the red man, and
to keep peace amongst all. So dear was the red man to
the heart of the chief whom the Great Mother had sent, that
the sale of all spirits had been stopped in the Indian country,
and henceforth, when he saw any trader bringing whisky
or fire-water into the camp, he could tell his young men
to go and iake the fire-water by force from the trader.”
“That is good!” he repeated twice, “ that is good !” but
whether this remark of approval had reference to the
stoppage of the fire-water or to the prospective seizure of

938 TIE GREAT LONE LAND.

liquor by his braves, I cannot say. Soon after the depar-
ture of Mistawassis from the hut, a loud drumming outside
was suddenly struck up, and going to the door I found the
young men had assembled to dance the dance of weleome in
my honour; they drummed and danced in different stages
of semi-nudity for some time, and at the termination of the
nerformance I gave an order for tobacco all round.

When the dancing-party had departed, a very garrulous
Tndian presented himself, saying that he had been informed
that the Ogima was possessed of some “ great medicines,”
and that he wished to see them. I have almost forgotten
to remark that my store of drugs and medicines had under-
gone considerable delapidation from frost and fast travelling.
An examination held at Carlton into the contents of the two
cases had revealed a sad state of affairs. Frost had smashed
many bottles; powders badly folded up bad fetched way in
a deplorable manner ; tinctures had proved their capability
for the work they had to perform by tincturing every thing
that came within their reach ; hopeless confusion reigned in
the department of pills. A few glass-stoppered bottles had
indeed resisted the gencral demoralization ; but, for the rest,
it really seemed as though blisters, pills, powders, scales,
and disinfecting fluids had been wildly bent upon blistering,
pilling, powdering, weighing, and disinfecting one another
ever since they had left Fort Garry. I deposited at Carlton
a considerable quantity of a disinfecting fluid frozen solid,
and as highly garnished with pills as the exterior of that
condiment known as a chancellor’s pudding is resplendent
with rasins. Whether this conglomerate really did disinfect
the walls of Carlton I cannot state, but from its appearance
and general medicinal aspect~I should say that no disease,
however virulent, had the slightest chance against it. Having
repacked the other things as safely as possible into one

THE GREAT LONE LAND. 239

large box, I still found that I was the possessor of medicine
amply sufficient to poison a very large extent of territory,
and in particular I had a small leather medicine-chest in
which the glass-stoppered bottles had kept intaet. This chest
I now produced for the benefit of my garrulous friend; one
very strong essence of smelling-salts particularly delighted
him ; the more it burncd his nostrils the more he laughed
and hugged it, and after a time declared that there could
be no doubt whatever as to that article, for it was a very
« erent medicine” indeed.

9.40 THE GREAT LONE LAND.

CHAPTER XVI.

Tus Rep May—~—Leave Barrre River—Tue Rep Deer Hirts—
A toxc Rwe—Fort Pittr—Lus PLacue—Havuxe sy THe
Tar—A piEasant Compaxioys—AN East Metuup or Divorce
—Rescu Epmostoy.

Ever towards the setting sun drifts the flow of Indian
migration; ever nearer and nearer to that glorious range
of snow-clad peaks which the red man has so aptly named
“the Mountains of the Setting Sun.” It is a mournful
task to trace back through the long list of extinct tribes
the history of this migration. Turning over the leaves
of books belonging to that, “old colonial time” of which
Longfellow speaks, we find strange names of Indian tribes
now utterly unknown, meetings of council and treaty-
making with Mohawks and Oneidas and Tuscaroras.

They are gone, and seareely a. trace remains of them.
Others have left in lake and mountain-top the reeord of
their names. Erie and Ottawa, Sencea and Cayuga tell of
forgotten or almost forgotten nations which a century ago
were great and powerful. But never at any time since first
the white man was weleomed on the newly-discovered shores
of the Western Continent by his red brother, never has such
disaster and destruction overtaken these poor wild, wander-
ing sons of nature as at the moment in which we write. Of
yore it was the pioneers of France, England, and Spain
with whom they had to contend, but now the whole white
world is leagued in Ditter strife against the Indian. The

NIE GREAT LONE LAND. 241

American and Canadian are only names that hide beneath
them the greed of united Europe. Terrible deeds have
been wrought out in that western land; terrible heart-
sickening deeds of cruelty and rapacious infamy—have been,
I say? no, are to this day and hour, and never perhaps more
sickening than now in the full blaze of nineteenth-century
civilization. If on the long line of the American frontier,
from the Gulf of Mexico to the British boundary, a single
life is taken by an Indian, if even a horse or ox be stolen
from a settler, the fact is chronicled in scores of journals
throughout the United States, but the reverse of the story
we never know. The countless deeds of perfidious robbery,
of ruthless murder done by white savages out in these
Western wilds never find the light of day. The poor red
man has no telegraph, no newspaper, no type, to tell his
sufferings and his woes. My God, what a terrible tale
could I not tell of these dark deeds done by the white savage
against the far nobler red man! From southernmost Texas
to most northern Montana there is but one universal remedy
for Indian difficulty—kill him. Let no man tell me that
such is not the case. I answer, I have heard it hundreds of
times: “ Never trust a redskin unless he be dead.” “ Kill
every buffalo you see,” said a Yankee colonel to me one day
in Nebraska ; “every buffilo dead is an Indian gone 3” such
things are only trifles. Listen to this cute feat of a Mon-"
tana trader. A store-keeper in Helena City had some
sugar stolen from him. He poisoned the sugar next night
and left his door open. In the morning six Indians were
found dead outside the town. That was a ’cute notion, I
guess; and yet there are other examples worse than that,
but they are too revolting to tell. Never mind; I suppose
they have found record somewhere else if not in this world,
and in one shape or another they will speak in due time.
R

243 TITRE CREAT LONE LAND.

The Crees are perhaps the only tribe of prairie Indians who
have as yet suffered no mjustiec at the hands of the white
man. The land is still theirs, the hunting-crounds remain
almost undisturbed; but their days are numbered, and already
the echo of the approaching wave of Western immigration is
sounding through the solitudes of the Cree country.

It is the same story from the Atlantic to the Pacific.
First the white man was the welcome guest, the honoured
visitor ; then the greedy hunter, the death-dealing vender of
fire-water and poison; then the settler and exterminator—
every where it has been the same story.

This wild man who first welcomed the new-comer is the
only perfect socialist or communist in the world. He holds all
things in common with his tribe—the land, the bison, the
river, and the moose. He is starving, and the rest of the
tribe want food. “Well, he kills a moose, and to the last bit
the coveted food is shared by all, That war-party has taken
one hundred horses in the last raid into Blackfoot or Peagin
territory ; well, the whole tribe are free to help themselves to
the best and fleetest stecds before the captors will touch one
out of the band. There is but a scrap of beaver, a thin
rabbit, or a bit of sturgeon in the lodge; a stranger comes,
and he is hungry ; give him his share and let him be first
served and best attended to. If one child starves in an
Indian camp you may know that in every lodge scarcity is
universal and that every stomach is hungry. Poor, poor
fellow! his virtues are all his own; crimes he may have, and
plenty, but his noble traits spring from no book-learning,
from no schooleraft, from the preaching of no pulpit; they
come from the instinct of good which the Great Spirit has
taught him ; they are the whisperings from that lost world
whose glorious shores beyond thé Mountains of the Setting
Sun are the long dream of his life. The most curious

THE GREAT LONE LAND. 243

anomaly among the race of man, the red man of America, is
passing away beneath our eyes into the infinite solitude.
The possession of the same noble qualities which we affect
to reverence among our nations makes us kill him. If he
would be as the African or the Asiatic it would be all right
for him; if he would be our slave he might live, but as he
won't be that, won’t toil and delve and hew for us, and will
persist in hunting, fishing, and roaming over the beautiful
prairie land which the Great Spirit gave him; in a word,
since he will be free—we kill him. Why do I call this
wild child the great anomaly of the human race? I will
tell you. Alone amongst savage tribes he has learnt the
lesson which the great mother Nature teaches to her sons
through the voices of the night, the forest, and the solitude.
This river, this mountain, this measureless meadow speak
to him in a language of their own. Dwelling with them, he
learns their varied tongues, and his speech becomes the
echo of the beauty that lies spread around him. Every
name for Jake or river, for mountain or meadow, has its pe-
euliar significance, and to tell the Indian title of such things
is generally to tell the nature of them also. Ossian never
spoke with the voice of the mist-shrouded mountain or the
wave-beat shores of the isles more thoroughly than does this
chief of the Blackfeet or the Sioux speak the voices of the
things of earth and air amidst which his wild life is cast.
Iknowthat it is the fashion to hold in derision and mockery
the idea that nobility, poetry, or eloquence exist in the wild
Indian. I know that with that low brutality which has ever
made the Anglo-Saxon race deny its enemy the possession
of one atom of generous sensibility, that dull enmity which
prompted us to paint the Maid of Orleans a harlot, and to
call Napoleon the Corsican robber—I know that that same
instinet glories in degrading the savage, whose chief crime
r2

9.44 TIE GREAT LONE LAND.

is that he prefers death to slavery; glories in painting him
devoid of every trait of manhood, worthy only to share the
fate of the wild beast of the wilderness—to be shot down
mercilessly when seen. But those bright spirits who have
redeemed the America of to-day from the dreary waste of
vulgar greed and ignorant conceit which we in Europe have
flung so heavily upon her; those men whose writings have
come back across the Atlantic, and have become as house-
hold words among us—Irving, Cooper, Longfellow—have
they not found in the rich store of Indian poetry the source

of their choicest thought? Nay, I will go farther, because —
it may he said that the poet would be prone to drape with
poetry every subject on which his fancy lighted, as the sun’
turns to gold and crimson the dullest and the dreariest
clouds: but search the books of travel amongst remote In-
dian tribes, from Columbus to Catlin, from Charlevoix to
Carver, from Bonneville to Pallisser, the story is ever the
same. The traveller is welcomed and made much of; he is
free to come and go; the best food is set before him; the
lodge is made warm and bright ; he is welcoze to stay his
lifetime if he pleases. “I swear to your majesties,” writes
Columbus—alas ! the red man’s greatest enemy—*I swear
to your majesties that there is not in the world a better
people than these, more affectionate, affable, or mild.” “At
this moment,” writes an American officer only ten years
back, “it is certain a man can go about throughout the
Blackfoot territory without molestation, except in the con-
tingency of being mistaken at night for an Indian?’ No

they are fast going, and soon they will be all gone, but in
after-times men will judge more justly the poor wild crea-
tures whom to-day we kill and villify; men will go back
again to those old books of travel, or to those pages of
“ Hiawatha ” and “Mohican,” to £nd that far away from

THE GREAT LONE LAND. 245

the border-land of civilization the wild red man, if more of
the savage, was infinitely lss of the brute than wus the
white ruffian who destroyed him.

I quitted the camp at Battle River on the 17th Novem-
ber, with a large band of horses and a young Cree brave
who had volunteered his services for some reason of his own
which he did not think necessary to impart to us. The
usual crowd of squaws, braves in buffalo robes, naked chil-
dren, and howling dogs assembled to see us start. The Cree
led the way mounted on a ragged-looking pony, then came
the baggage-vleds, and I brought up the rear on a tall
horse belonging to the Company. Thus we held our way
in a north-west direction over high-rolling plains along
the north bank of the Saskatchewan towards Fort Pitt.

On the morning of the 18th we got away from our
camping thicket of poplars long before the break of day.
There was no track to guide us, but the Cree went straight
as an arrow over hill and dale and frozen lake. The hour
that preceded the dawn was brilliant with the flash and
flow of meteors across the North-western sky. I lagged so
far behind to watch them that when day broke I found
myself alone, miles from the party. The Cree kept the pace
so well that it took me some hours before I again caught

~ sight of them. After a hard ride of six-and-thirty miles,
we halted for dinner on the banks of English Creek. Close
beside our camping-place a large clump of spruce-pine
stood in dull contrast to the snowy surface. They looked
like old friends to me—friends of the Winnipeg and the
now distant Lake of the Woods; for from Red River to
English Creek, a distance of 750 miles, I had seen but a
solitary pine-tree. After a short dinner we resumed our rapid
way, forcing the pace with a view of making Fort Pitt by
night-fall, A French half-breed declared he knew a short

246 THE GRE. t LONE LAND.

cut across the hills of the Red Deer, a wild rugged tract of
country lying on the north of the Saskatchewan. Cross-
ing these hills, he said, we would strike the river at their
farther side, and then, passing over on the ice, cut the bend
which the Saskatchewan makes to the north, and, emerging
again opposite Fort Pitt, finally re-eross the river at that
station. So much for the plan, and now for its fulfilment.
We entered the region of the Red Deer Hills at about
two o’clock in the afternoon, and continued at a very rapid
pace in a westerly direction for three hours. As we pro-
ceeded the country beeame more broken, the hills rising
steeply from narrow V-shaped valleys, and the ground in
many places covered with fallen and decaying trees—the
wrecks of fire and tempest. very where throughout this
wild region lay the antlers and heads of moose and elk;
but, with the exception of an occasional large jackass-rabbit,
nothing living moved through the silent hills. The ground
was free from badger-holes; the day, though dark, was
fine; and, with a gvod horse under me, that two hours’
gullop over the Red Deer Hills was glorious work. It
wanted yet an hour of sunset when we came suddenly upon
the Saskatchewan flowing in « deep narrow valley between
steep and ‘lofty hills, which were bare of trees and bushes
and clear of snow, A very wild desolate scene it looked’ as
I surveyed it from a projecting spur upon whose summit I
rested my blown horse. Iwas now far in advance of the party
who occupied a parallel ridge behind me. By signs they in-
timated that our course now lay to the north; in facet,
Daniel had steered very much too far south, and we had
struck the Saskatchewan river a long distance below the
intended place of crossing. sway we went ugain to the
north, soon losing sight of the party; but as I kept the
yiver un my lett far beluw in the valley. I knew they could

THE GREAT LUNE LAND, DAF

not cross without my being aware of it. Just befere sun-
set they appeared again in sight, making signs that they
_were about to descend inte the valley and to cross the river.
The valley here was five hundred feet in depth, the slope
being one of the steepest I had ever seen. At the bottom
of this steep descent the Saskatchewan lay in its iey bed,
a large majestic-looking river thyee hundred yards in width.
We crossed on the ice without accident, and winding up the
steep southern shore gained the level plateau above. The
sun was going down, right on our onward track. In the
deep valley below the Cree and an English half-breed were
getting the herses and baggage-sleds over the river. We
made signs to them to camp in the valley, and we ourselves
turned our tired horses towards the west, determined at all
hazards to reach the fort that night. The Frenchman led
the way riding, the Hudson Bay officer followed in a
horse-sled, I brought up the rear on horseback. Soon it got
quite dark, and we held on overa rough and bushless plateau
seamed with deep gullies into which we descended at hap-
hazard forcing our weary horses with difficulty up the op-
posite sides. The night got later and Jater, and still no sign
of Fort Pitt ; riding in rear I was able to mark the course
taken by our guide, and it soon struck me that he was steer-
ing wrong; our correct course lay west, but he seemed to
be heading gradually to the North, and finally began to
veer even towards the East. I called out to the Hudson
Bay man that I had serious doubts as to Danicl’s know-
ledge of the track, but I was assured that all was correct.
Still we went on, and still no sign of fort or river. At length
the Frenchman suddenly pulled up and asked vs to halt
while he rode on and surveyed the country, because he had
lost the track, and didn’t know where he had got to. Here
was a pleasant prospect! without food, fire, or covering,

948 THE GREAT LONE LAND.

out on the bleak plains, with the thermometer at 20°
of frost! After some time the Frenchman returned and
deelared that he had altogether lost his way, and that there
was nothing for it but to eamp where we were, and wait for
daylight to proceed. I looked around in the darkness. The
ridge on which we stood was bare and bleak, with the snow
drifted off into the valleys. A few miserable stunted willows
were the only signs of vegetation, and the wind whistling
through their ragged branches made up as dismal a pro-
spect as man could look at. I certainly felt in no very
amiable mood with the men who had brought me into this
predicament, because I had been overruled in the matter of
leaving our baggage behind and in the track we had been
pursuing. My companion, however, accepted the situation
with apparent resignation, and I saw him commence to un-
harness his horse from the sled with the aspect of a man
who thought a bare hill-top without -food, fire, or clothes
was the normal state of happiness to which a2 man might
reasonably aspire at the close of an eighty-mile march, with-
out laying himself open to the accusation of being over-
effeminate.

Watching this for some seconds in silence, I determined
to shape for myself a different course. I dismounted, and
taking from the sled a shirt made of deer-skin, mounted
again my poor weary horse and turned off alone into the
darkness. “Where are you going to?” I heard my com-
panions calling out after me. I was half inclined not to
answer, but turned in the saddle and holloacd back,= To
Fort Pitt, that’s all.” I heard behind mea violent bustle, as
though they were busily engaged in yoking up the horses
again, and then I rode off as hard as my weary horse could
go. My friends took a very short time to harness up again,
and they were -soon powdering along. through the wilder-

TIE GREAT LONE LAND. 249

ness. I kept on for about half an hour, steering by the
stars due west; suddenly 1 came out upon the edge of a
deep valley, and by the broad white band beneath recog-
nized the frozen Saskatchewan again. [had at least found
the river, and Fort Pitt, we knew, lay somewhere upon the
bank. Turning away from the river, I held on in a south-
westerly direction for a considerable distance, passing up
along a bare snow-covered valley and crossing a high ridge
agitsend. I could hear my friends behind in the dark, but
they had got, I think, a notion that I had taken leave of my
senses, and they were afraid to call out tome. After abit
I bent my course again to the west, ond steering by my
old guides, the stars, those truest and most unchanging
friends of the wanderer, I once more struck the Saskatche-
wan, this time descending to its level and crossing it on the
ice.

As I walked along, leading my horse, I must admit to
experiencing a sensation not at all pleasant. The memory
of the crossing of the South Branch was still too strong
to admit of over-confidence in the strength of' the ice, and
as every now and again my tired horse broke through the
upper crust of snow and the ice beneath cracked, as it always
will when weight is placed on it for the first time, no matter
how strong it may be, I felt by no means as comfortable
asI would have wished. At last the long river was passed, and
there on the opposite shore lay the cart track to Fort Pitt.
We were close to Pipe-stone Creek, and only three miles
from the Fort.

Jt was ten o’clock when we reached the closely-barred
gate of this Hudson Bay post, the inhabitants of which
had gone to bed. Ten o’elock at night, and we had started
at six o’clock in the morning. I had been fifteen hours in
the saddle, and not less than ninety miles had passed under

250 THE Ghar LONE LAND.

my horse’s hoofs, but so accustomed had I grown to travel
that I felt just as ready to set out again as though only
twenty miles had been traversed. The excitement of the
last few hours’ steering by the stars in an unknown country,
and its most successful déxouement, had put fatieue and
weariness in the background; and as we sat down to a
well-cooked supper of buffalo steaks and potatoes, with the
brightest eyed little lassie, half Cree, half Scotch, in the
North-west to wait upon us, while a great fire of pine-
wood blazed and erackled on the open hearth, I couldn’t
help saying to my companions, “ Well, this is better than
your hill-top and the fireless bivouac in the rustling willows.”

Fort Pitt was free from small-pox, but it had gone
through a fearful ordeal : more than ene hundred Crees had
perished close around its stockades. The unburied dead
lay for days by the road-side, till the wolves, growing bold
with the impunity which death among the hunters ever
gives to the hunted, approached and fought over the decay-
ing bodies. From a spot many marches to the south the
Indians had come to the fort in midsummer, leaving behind
them a long track of dead and dying men over the waste
of distance. ‘Give us help,” they cried, “give us help,
our medicine-men can do nothing against this plague ; from
the white man we got it, and it is only the white man who
can take it away from us.” °

But there was no help to be given, and day by day the
wretched band grew léss. Then came another idea into the
red man’s brain: “If we can only give this disease to the
white man and the trader in the fort,” thought they, “we
will cease to suffer from it ourselves ;” so they came into the
houses dying and disfigured as they were, horrible beyond
description to look at, and sat down in the entrances of the
wooden houses, and stretched themselves on the Hoors and

THE GREAT LONE LAND. 951

spat upon the door-handles. Jt was no use, the fell disease
held them in a grasp from which there was no escape, and
just six weeks before my arrival the living remnant fled
away in despair.

Fort Pitt stands on the left or north shore of the
Saskatchewan River, which is here more than four hun-
dred yards in width. On the opposite shore immense
bare, bleak hilis raise their wind-swept heads seven lhun-
dred {vet above the river level. A few pine-trees show their
tops some distance away to the north, but no other trace
of wood is to be seen in that vast amphitheatre of dry
grassy hill in which the fort is built. It is a singularly
wild-looking seene, not without a certain beauty of its own,
but difficult of association with the idea of disease orepidemie,
so pure and bracing is the air which sweeps over those
great grassy uplands. On the 20th November I left Fort
Pitt, having exchanged some tired horses for fresher ones,
but still keeping the same steed for the saddle, as nothing
better could be procured from the band at the fort. The
snow had now almost disappeared from the ground, and a
Red River cart was onee more taken into use for the bag-
gage. Still keeping along the north shore of the Saskatche-
wan, we now held our way towards the station of Victoria, 2
small half-breed settlement situated at the most northerly
bend which the Saskatchewan, makes in its long course
from the mountains to Lake Winnipeg. The order of march
was ever the same; the Cree, wrapped in a loose blanket, with
his gun balanced across the shoulder of his pony, jogged
on in front, then came a young halfbreed named Batte-
notte, who will be better known perhaps to the English
reader when I say that he was the son of the-Assineboine
guide who conducted Lord Milton and Dr. Cheadle through
the pine forests of the Thompson River. This youngster

252 THE GREAT LONE LAND.

employed himself by continually shouting the name of the
horse he was driving—thus “ Rouge!” would be vigorously
yelled out by his tongue, and Rouge at the same moment
would be vigorously belaboured by his whip; “ Noir!” he
would again shout, when that most ragged animal would be
within the shafts; and as Rouge and Noir invariably had
this ejaculation of their respective titles coupled with the
descent of the whip upon their respective backs, it followed
that after a while the mere mention of the name conveyed
to the animal the sensation of being licked. One horse, re-
joicing in the title of “Jean ’Hereux,” seemed specially
selected for this mode of treatment. He was a brute of
surpassing obstinacy, but, as he bore the name of his
former owner, a French semi-clerical maniac who had
fled from Canada and joined the Blackfeet, and who was
regarded by the Crees as one of their direst foes, I rather
think that the youthful Battenotte took out on the horse
some of the grudges that he owed tothe man. Be that as it
may, Jean i’Hereux got many a trouncing as he laboured
along the sandy pine-covered ridges which rise to the north-
west of Fort Pitt.

On the night of the 21st November we reached the shore
of the Egg Lake, and made our camp in a thick clump
of aspens.- About midday on the following day we
came in sight of the Saddle Lake, a favourite camp-
ing-ground of the Crees, owing to its inexhaustible stores
of finest fish. Nothing struck me more as we thus pushed
on rapidly along the Upper Saskatchewan than the absence
of all authentic information from stations farther west.
Every thing was rumour, and the most absurd rumour.
“Tf you meet an old Indian named Pinguish and a boy
without a name at Saddle Lake,” said the Hudson Bay
officer at Fort Pitt tu me, “ they may give you letters frum

TIE GREAT LONE TAND. 253

Edmonton, and you may get some news from them, bacause
they lost letters near the lake three wecks ago, and perhaps
they may have found them by the time you get there.” Tt
struck me very forcibly, after a little while, that this “ boy
without a rame” was a most puzzling individual to go in
search of. The usual interrogatory question of “ What’s
your name?” would not be of the least use to find such a
personage, and to ask a man if he had no name, as a preli-
minary question, might be to insult him. I therefore fell
back upon Pinguish, but could obtain no intelligence of him
whatever. Pinguish had apparently never been heard of.
It then occurred to me that the boy without the name
might perhaps be a remarkable character in the neighbour-
hood, owing to his peculiar exception from the lot of
humanity; but no such negative person had ever been
known, and I was constrained to believe that Pinguish and
his mysterious partner had fallen victims to the small-pox or
had no existence; for at Saddie Lake the small-pox had
worked its direst fury, it was still raging in two little huts
close to the track, and when we halted for.dinner near the
south end of the Jake the first man who approached was
marked and seared by the disease. It was fated that this
day we were to be honoured by peculiar company at our
dinner. In addition to the small-pox man, there came an ill-
looking fellow of the name of Favel, who at once proceeded
to make himself at his ease beside us. This individual bore
a deeper brand than that of small-pox upon him, inasmuch
asa couple of years before he had foully murdered a com-
rade in one of the passes of the Rocky Mountains when
returning from British Columbia. But this was not the
only intelligence as to my companions that I was des-
tined to receive upon my arrival on the following day at
Victoria.

954 THE GREAT LONE LAND.

* You have got Louis Battenotte, with you, I see,” said
the Hudson Bay officer in charge.

“Yes,” I replied.

* Did he tell you any thing about the small-pox ?”

“ Oh, yes; a great deal; he often spoke about it.”

“Did he say he had had it himself?”

iz4 No.”

Well, he had,” continued my host, “ only a month ago,
and the coat and trousers that he now wears were the
same articles of clothing in which he lay all the time he
had it,” was the pleasant reply.

After this little revelation concerning Battenotte and
his habiliments, I must admit that I was not quite as
ready to look with pleasure upon his performance of the
duties of cook, chambermaid, and general valet as I
had been in the earlier stage of our acquaintance; but a
little reflection made the whole thing right again, con-
vineing one of the fact that travelling, like misery, “ makes
one acquainted with strange bedfellows,” and that luck
has more to say to our lives than we are wont to admit.
After leaving Saddle Lake we entered upon a very rich and
beautiful country, completely clear of snow and covered
deep in grass and vetehes. We travelled hard, and reached
at nightfall a thick wood of pines and spruce-trees, in which
we made a cosy camp. I had brought with me a bottle of
old brandy from Red River in case of illness, and on this
evening, not feeling all right, I drew the cork while the
Cree was away with the horses, and drank a little with my
companion. Before we had quite finished, the Cree returned
to camp, and at once declared that he smelt grog. He
became very lively at this discovery. We had taken the
precaution to rinse out the eup that had held the spirit, but
he nevertheless commenced a series of brewing which ap-

THE GREAT LONE LAND. 255

peared to give him infinite satisfaction. Two or three times
did he fill the empty cup with water and drain it to the
bottom, Jaughing and rolling his head each time with de-
hight, and in order to be sure that he had got the right one
he proceeded in the same manner with every cup we pos-
sessed ; then he confided to Battenotte that he had not tasted
erog for a long time before, the last occasion bemg one on
which he had divested himself of his shirt and buffalo robe,
in other words, gone naked, in order to obtain the coveted
fire-water.

The weather had now become beautifully mild, and
on the 23rd of November the thermometer did not show
even one degree of frost. As we approached the acighhour-
hood of the White Earth River the aspect of the country
beeame very striking : groves of spruce and pine crowned
the ridges; rich, well-watered valleys lay between, deep in
the long white grass of the autumn. The track wound in
and out through groves and wooded decliviiies, and all
nature looked bright and beautiful. Some of the ascents
from the river bottoms were so steep that the united efforts
of Battenotte and the Cree were powerless to induce Rouge
or Noir, or even Jean |’Hereux, to draw the eart to the
summit. But the Cree was equal to the occasion. With a
piece of shanganappi he fastened L’Hereux’s tail to the shafts
of the cart—shafts which had already between them the
redoubted Noir. This new method of harnessing had a
marked effect upon L’Herenx; he strained and hauled with
a persistency and vigour which I feared must prove fatal to
the permanency of his tail in that portion of his body in which
nature had located it, but happily such was not the case, and
by the united efforts of all parties the summit was reached.

I only remained one day at Victoria, and the 25th of
November found me again en route for Edmonton. Our

956 TIE GREAT LONE TAND.

Cree had, however, disappeared. One night when he was
eating his supper with his scalping-knife—a knife, by the
way, with which he had taken, he informed us, three Black-
feet. sealps—I asked him why he had come away with us
from Battle River. Because he wanted to get rid of his
wife, of whom he was tired, he replied. He had come off
without saying any thing to her. “And what will happen
to the wife??? Lasked. ‘“ Oh, she will marry another brave
when she finds me gone,” he answered, laughing at the
idea. I did not enter into the previous domestic events
which had led to this separation, but I presume they were of
a. nature similar to those which are not altogether unknown
in more civilized society, and I make no hesitation in offering
to our legislators the example of my friend the Cree as
tending to simplify the solution, or rather the dissolution, of
that knotty point, the separation of couples who, for reasons
best known to themselves, have ceased to love. Whether it
was that the Cree found in Victoria a lady suited to his
fancy, or whether he had heard of a war-party against the
Sircies, I cannot say, but he vanished during the night of
our stay in the fort, and we saw him no more.

As we journcyed on towards Edmonton the country main-
tained its rich and beautiful appearance, and the weather con-
tinued fine and mild. Every where nature had written in
unmistakable characters the story of the fertility of the soil
over which we rode—every where the eye looked upon pano-
ramas filled with the beauty of lake and winding river, and
grassy slope and undulating woodland. The whole face of the
country was indeed one vast park. For two days we passed
through this beautiful land, and on the evening of the 26th
November drew near to Edmonton. My party had been
increased by. the presence of two gentlemen from Victoria
—a Wesleyan minister and the Hudson Bay official in

THE GREAT LONE LAND. 257

charge of the Company’s post at that place. Both of these .
gentlemen had resided long in the Upper Saskatchewan, and
were intimately acquainted with the tribes who inhabit the
vast territory from the Rocky Mountains to Carlton House,
It was late in the evening, just one month after I had started
from the banks of the Red River, that I approached the high
palisades of Edmonton. As one who looks back at evening
from the summit of some lofty ridge over the long track
which he has followed since the morning, so now did my
mind travel back over the immense distance through which
I had ridden in twenty-two days of actual travel and in
thirty-three of the entire journey—that distance could not
have been less than 1000 miles; and as each camp scene
rose again before me, with its surrounding of snow and
storm-swept prairie and lonely clump of aspens, it seemed
as though something like infinite space stretched between me
and that far-away land which one word alone can picture,
that one word in which so many others centre—Home.

"258 IE GREAT LONE LAND.

CHAPTER XVII. .

‘Epvoxton—Tue Rurriaxn Tanakoocu—Frencx Misstonarles—
Westwarp sTini—A BeautIFUL Laxp—Tak Buackrset—Horses
—A “Bert-ox” Sorprer—A Buackroor Sreecu—Tse Ixpian
Laxp—Finst Sieur or tHe Rocky Mountarss—Tue Mountain

‘ Hovse—Toe Mounrary Assryesopves—An Ixpran Trape—~ _

M. 1a Compe—Frre-warer—A Nicur Assavyr.

Epmowxton, the. head-quarters of the Hudson Bay Com-
pany’s Saskatchewan trade, and the residence of a chief
factor of the corporation, is a large five-sided fort with the
usual flanking bastions and high stockades. It has within
these stockades many commodious and well-built wooden
houses, and differs in the cleanliness and order of its arrange-
ments from the general run of trading forts in the Indian
country. It stands on a high level bank 100 feet above
the Saskatchewan River, which rolls below_in a broad
majestic stream, 300 yards in width. Farming operations,
boat-building, and flour-milling are carried on extensively
at the fort, and a blacksmith’s forge is also kept going.
My business with the officer in charge of Edmonton was
soon concluded. I+ principally consisted in conferring upon
him, by commission, the same high judicial functions
which I have already observed had been entrusted to. me..
before setting out for the Indian territories. There was
one very serious drawback, however, to the possession of
magisterial or other authority in the Saskatchewan, in
as much as there existed no means whatever of putting
. that authority into force.

THE GREAT LONE LAND. 259

. ‘The Lord: High Chancellor of England, together with
the Master of the Rolls and the twenty-four judges of dif-
ferent degrees, would be perfectly useless if placed in the
Saskatchewan to put in execution the authority of the
law. The Crees, Blackfeet, Peagins, and Sircies would
.«-doubtless have come to the conclusion that these high
judicial functionaries were “very great medicines ;” but
beyond that conclusion, which they would have drawn
more from the remarkable costume and head-gear worn by-
those exponents of the law than fromthe possession of any
legal acumen, much would not have been attained. These
considerations somewhat mollified~the. feelings of disap-
pointment with which I now found myself face to face
with the most desperate set of criminals, while I was
utterly unable to enforce against them the majesty of my
commission.
_. First, there was ihe notorious Tahakooch—murderer,
robber, and general scoundrel of deepest dye; then there
was the sister of the above, a maiden of ‘some twenty
‘summers, who hadalso perpetrated the murder of two Black-
foot children close to Edmonton; then there was a youthful
French half-breed who had killed his uncle at the settle-
ment of Grand Lac, nine miles to the north-west; and,
finally, there was'my dinner companion at Saddle Lake, .
whose crime I only became.aware of after I had left that
locality. But this Tahakooch was a ruffian too desperate. .
Here was-one-of his murderous acts. A short time previous. -
to my arrival-two Sircies came to Edmonton.: Tabakooch
and: two of his brothers were camped near the ‘fort. Taha-
kooch professed friendship for the Sircies, and they went to
his lodge. After a few days had passed the Sircies thought
it was time to return to their tribe. Rumour said that the .
charms of the sister of Tahakooch had captivated either one.
s 2

260 THE GREAT LONE LAND.

or both of them, and that she had not been insensible to
their admiration. Be this as it may, it was time to go;
and so they prepared for the journey. An Indian will
travel by night as readily as by day, and it was night when
these men left the tent of Tahakooeh.

“ We will go to the fort,” said the host, “in order to get
provisions for your journey.”

The party, three in number, went to the fort, and knocked
at the gate for admittance. The man on watch at the gate,
before unbarring, looked from the bastion over the stock-
ades, to see who might be the three men who sought an
entrance. It was bright moonlight, and he noticed the
shimmer of a gun-barrel under the blanket of Tahakooch.
The Sircies were provided with some dried meat, and the
party went away. The Sircies marched first in single file,
then followed Tahakooch close behind them; the three
formed one line. Suddenly, Tahakooch drew from beneath
his blanket a short double-barrelled gun, and discharged
both barrels into the back of the nearest Sircie. The
bullets passed through one man into the body of the other,
knlling the nearest one instantly. The leading Sircie,
though desperately wounded, ran fleetly along the moonlit
path until, faint and bleeding, he fell. Tahakooch was
close behind ; but the villain’s hand shook, and four times
his shots missed the wounded wretch upon the ground.
Summoning up all his strength, the Sircie sprung upon his
assailant ; a hand-to-hand struggle ensued ; but the despe-
rate wound was too much for him, he grew faint in his
efforts, and the villain Tahakooch passed his knife into his:
vietim’s body. All this took place in the same year during
which I reached Edmonton, and within sight of the walls
of the fort. Tahakooch lived only a short distance away,
and was a daily visitor at the fort.

THE GREAT LONE LAND. 261

But to recount the deeds of blood enacted around the
wooden walls of Edmonton would be to fill a volume.
Edmonton and Fort Pitt both stand within the war country
of the Crees and Blackfeet, and are consequently the scenes
of many conflicts between these fierce and implacable
enemies. Hitherto my route has led through the Cree
country, hitherto we have seen only the prairies and woods
through which the Crees hunt and camp; but my wanderings
are yet far from their end. To the south-west, for many
and many a mile, lie the wide regions of the Blackfeet
and the mountain Assineboines; and into these regions I am
about to push my way. It is a wild, lone land guarded by
the giant peaks of mountains whose snow-capped summits
lift themselves 17,000 feet above the sea level. It is the
birth-place of waters which seek in four mighty streams the
four distant oceans—the Polar Sea, the Atlantic, the Gulf of
Mexico, and the Pacific.

A few miles north-west of Edmonton a settlement com-
posed exclusively of French half-breeds is- situated on the
shores of a rather extensive lake which bears the name of
' the Grand Lac, or St. Albert. This settlement is presided
over by a mission of French Roman Catholic clergymen
of the order of Oblates, headed by a bishop of the same
order and nationality. It is a curious contrast to find in
this distant and strange land men of culture and high
mental excellence devoting their lives to the task of civi-
lizing the wild Indians of the forest and the prairie—going
far in advance of the settler, whose advent they have but too
much cause to dread. I care not what may be the form of
belief which the on-looker may hold—whether it be in uni-
son or in antagonism with that faith preached by these men ;
but he is only a poor semblance of a man who can behold
such a sight through the narrow glass of sectarian feeling,

262 THE GREAT LONE LAND.

and see in it nothing but the self-interested labour of persons
holding opinions foreign to his own. He who has travelled
through the vast colonial empire of Britain—that empire
which covers one third of the entire habitable surface of
the globe and probably half of the lone lands of the world—
must often have met with men dwelling in the midst of
wild, savage peoples whom they tended with a strange
and mother-like devotion. If you asked who was this
stranger who dwelt thus among wild men in these Jone
places, you were told he was the French missionary; and if
you sought him in his lonely hut, you found ever the same
surroundings, the same simple evidences of a faith which
seemed more than human. I do not speak from hearsay
cr book-knowledge. I have myself witnessed the scenes
I now try to recall. And it has ever been the same, East
and West, far in advance of trader or merchant, of sailor
or soldier, has gone this dark-haired, fragile man, whose
earliest memories are thick with sunny scenes by bank of
Loire or vine-clad slope of Rhone or Garonne, and whose
vision in this life, at least, is never destined to rest again
upon these oft-remembered places. Glancing through a
pamphlet one day at Edmonton, a pamphlet which recorded
the progress of a Canadian Wesleyan Missionary Society, I
read the following extract from the letter of a Western mis-
stonary:—~* These representatives of the Man of Sin, these
priests, are hard-workers; summer and winter they follow
the camps, suffering great privations. They are indefati-
gable in their efforts to make converts. But their converts,”
he.adds, “ have never heard of the Holy Ghost’ “The man
of sin”—which of us is without it? To these French
missionaries at Grand Lac I was the bearer of terrible
tidings. I carried to them the story of Sedan, the over-
whelming rush of armed Germany into the heart of France

THE GREAT LONE LAND. 263

—the closing of the high-schooled hordes of Teuton
savagery around Paris; all tat was hard home news to
hear. Fate had leant heavily upor their little congrega-
tion; out of 900 souls more than 300 had perished of
small-pox up to the date of my arrival, and others were
still sick in the huts along the lake. Well might the
bishop and his priests bow their heads in the midst of:
such manifold tribulations of death and disaster.

By the last day of November my preparations for further
travel into the regions lying west of Edmonton were com-
pleted, and at midday on‘the Ist December I set out for.
the Rocky Mountain House. This station, the most western
and southern held by the Hudson Bay Company in the
Saskatchewan, is distant from Edmonton about 180 miles
by horse trail, and 211 miles by river. I was provided
with five fresh horses, two good guides, and I carried letters
to merchants in the United States, should fortune permit
me to push through the great stretch of Blackfoot country
lying on the northern borders of the American territory ;
for it was my intention to leave the Mountain House as
soon as possible, and to endeavour to cross by rapid marches
the 400 miles of plains to some of the mining cities of
Montana or Idaho; the principal difficulty lay, however, in
the reluctance of men to come with me into the country
of the Blackfeet. At Edmonton only one man spoke the
Blackfoot tongue, and the offer of high wages failed to
induce him to attempt the journey. He was a splendid
specimen of a half-breed; he had married a Blackfoot
squaw, and spoke the difficult language with fluency; but
he had Jost nearly all his relations in the fatal plague, and
his answer was full of quiet thought when asked to be my
guide.

“Tt is a work of peril,” he said, “to pass the Blackfoot

264 THE GREAT LONE LAND. |

country at this season of the -year; their camps are now-
all ‘ pitching’ along the foot of the mountains; they will
see our trail in the snow, follow it, and steal our horses,
or perhaps worse still. At another time I would attempt
it, but death has been too heavy upon my friends, and I
don’t feel that I can go.”

It was still possible, however, that at the Mountain
House I might find a guide ready to attempt the journey,
and my kind host at Edmonton provided me with letters
to facilitate my procuring all supplies from his subordinate
officer at that station. Thus fully accoutred and prepared
to meet the now rapidly increasing severity of the winter,
IT started on the 1st December for the mountains. It was
a bright, beautiful day. I was alone with my two re-
tainers ; before me lay an uncertain future, but so many
curious scenes had been passed in safety during the last
six months of my life, that I recked little of what was
before me, drawing a kind of blind confidence from the
thought that so much could not have been in vain. Cross-
ing the now fast-frozen Saskatchewan, we ascended the
southern bank and entered upon a rich country watered:
with many streams and wooded with park-like clumps of
aspen and pine. My two retainers were first-rate fellows.
One spoke English very fairly: he was a brother of the
bright-eyed little beauty at Fort Pitt. The other, Paul
Foyale, was a thick, stout-set man, 2 good voyageur, and
excellent Im camp. Both were noted travellers, and both
had suffered severely in the epidemic of the small-pox.
Paul had lost ‘his wife and child, and Rowland’s children
had all had the disease, but had recovered. As for any
idea about taking infection from men coming out of places
where that infe¢tion existed, that would have been the merest
foolishness; at least,-Paul and Rowland thought so, and

THE GREAT LONE LAND. ; 265

as they were destined to be my close companions for some
days, cooking for me, tying up my blankets, and sleeping
beside me, it was just as well to put a good face upon the
matter and trust once more to the glorious doctrine of
chance. Besides, they were really such good fellows, princes
among voyageurs, that, small-pox or no small-pox, they
were first-rate company for any ordinary mortal. For two
days we jogged merrily along. The Musquashis or Bears
Hill rose before us and faded away into blue distance
behind us. After sundown on the 2nd we camped in a
thicket of large aspens by the high bank of the Battle
River, the same stream at whose mouth nearly 400 miles
away I had found the Crees a fortnight before. On the
8rd December we crossed this river, and, quitting the
Blackfeet trail, struck in a south-westerly direction through
a succession of grassy hills with partially wooded valleys
and small frozen lakes. A glorious country to ride over—
a country in which the eye ranged across miles and miles
of fair-lying hill and long-stretching valley; a silent,
beautiful land upon which summer had stamped so many
traces, that December had so far been powerless to efface
their beauty. Close by to the south lay the country of
the great Blackfeet nation—that wild, restless tribe whose
name has been a terror to other tribes and to trader and
trapper for many and many a year. Who.and what are
these wild dusky men who have held their own against
.all comers, sweeping like a whirlwind over the arid de-
serts of the central continent? They.speak.a tongue-dis-
tinct from.all other Indian tribes; they have ceremonies
and feasts wholly different, too, from the feasts and cere-
monies of other nations; they are at war with every
nation that touches the wide cirele of their boundaries; the
Crows, the Flatheads, the Kootenies, the Rocky Mountain

266 THE GREAT LONE LAND.

Assineboines, the Crees, the Plain Assineboines, the Min-
nitarrees, all are and have been the inveterate enemies of
the five confederate nations which form together the great
Blackfeet tribe. Long years ago, when their great fore-
father crossed the Mountains of the Setting Sun and settled
along the sources of the Missouri and the South Saskatche-
wan, so runs the legend of their old chiefs, it came to pass
that a chief had three sons, Kenna, or The Blood, Pea-
ginou, or The Wealth, and a third who was nameless. The
two first were great hunters, they brought to their father’s
lodge rich store of moose and elk meat, and the buffalo fell
before their unerring arrows; but the third, or nameless
one, ever returned empty-handed from the chase, until his
brothers mocked him for his want of skill. One day the
old chief said to this unsuccessful hunter, “My son, you
cannot kill the moose, your arrows shun the buffalo, the
elk is too flect for your footsteps, and your brothers mock
you beeause you bring no meat into the ledge; but see,
I will make you a great hunter.” And the old chief took
from the lodge-fire a piece of burnt stick, and, wetting it, he
rubbed the feet of his son with the blackened charcoal, and
he vamed him Sat-Sia-qua, or The Blackfeet, and evermore
Sat-Sia-qua was a mighty hunter, and his arrows flew
straight to the buffalo, and his feet moved swift in the
chase. From these three sons are descended the three tribes
of Blood, Peaginou, and Blackfeet, but in addition, for many
generations, two other tribes or portions of tribes have been .
admitted into the confederacy. These are the Sircies, on
the north, a branch, or offshoot from the Chipwayans of the
Athabasca.; and the Gros Ventres, or Atsinas, on the south-
east, a branch from the Arrapahoe nation who dwelt along
the sourees of the Platte. How these branches became
detached from the parent stocks has never been determined,

THE GREAT LONE LAND. 267

but to this day they speak the languages of their original
tribe in addition to that of the adopted one. The parent
tongue of the Sircies is harsh and guttural, that of the
Blackfeet is rich and musical ; and while the Sircies always
speak Blackfeet in addition to their own tongue, the Black-
feet rarely master the language of the Sircies.

War, as we have already said, is the sole toil and thought
of the red man’s life. He has three great causes of fight: to
steal a horse, take a scalp, or get a wife. I regret to have to
write that the possession of a horse is valued before that of
horse,” writes McKenzie, “ is valued at ten gums, a woman
is only worth one gun ;” but at that time horses were scarcer
than at present. Horses have been a late importation,
comparatively speaking, into the Indian country. They
travelled rapidly north from Mexico, and the prairies soon
became covered with the Spanish mustang, for whose pos-
session the red man killed his brother with singular perti-
nacity. The Indian to-day believes that the horse has ever
dwelt with him on the Western deserts, but that such is not
the case his own language undoubtedly tells. It is curious
to compare the different names which the wild men gave
the new-comer who was destined to work such evil among
them. In Cree, a dog is called “ Atim,” and a horse, “ Mist-
atim,” or the “ Big Dog.” In the Assincboine tongue the
horse is called “Sho-a-thin-ga,” “Thongatch shonga,” a
great dog. In Blackfeet, ‘“ Po-no-ka-mi-taa” signifies
the horse; and“ Po-no-ko”’ means red deer, and“ Emita,”
a dog—the “Red-deer Dog.” But the Sizcies made the best
name of all for the new-comer; they called him the “Chistli”
—“ Chis,” seven, “ Li,” dogs—‘ Seven Dogs.” Thus we
have him called the big dog, the great dog, the red-deer dog,
the seven dogs, and the red dog, or “ It-shou-ma-shungu,”

268 THE GREAT LONE LAND.

by the Gros Ventres. The dog was their universal beast of
burthen, and so they multiplied the name in many ways to
enable it to define the superior powers of the new beast.
But a far more formidable enemy than Crow or Cree
has lately come in contact with the Blackfeet—an enemy
before whom all his stratagem, all his skill with lance
or arrow, all his dexterity of horsemanship is of no avail.
The “Moka-manus” (the Big-knives), the white men, have
pushed up the great Missouri River into the heart of
the Blackfeet country, the fire-canoes have forced their
way along the muddy waters, and behind them a long
chain of armed posts have arisen to hold in cheek the wild
roving races of Dakota and the Montana. It is a useless
struggle that which these Indians wage against their latest
and most deadly enemy, but nevertheless it is one in which
the sympathy of any brave heart must lie on the side of the
savage. Here, at the head-waters of the great River Mis-
souri which finds its outlet into the Gulf of Mexico—here,
pent up against the barriers of the “Mountains of the
Setting Sun,” the Blackfeet offer a last despairing struggle
to the ever-inereasing tide that hems them in. It is not
yet two years since a certain citizen soldier of the United
States made a famous raid against a portion of this tribe at
the head-waters of the Missouri. Itso happened that I had
the opportunity of hearing this raid described from the
rival points of view of the Indian and the white man, and,
if possible, the brutality of the Jatter—brutality which
was gloried in—exceeded the relation of the former. Here
is the story of the raid as told me by a miner whose
“pal” was present in the scene. ‘It was a little afore day
when the boys came upon two redskins in a gulch near-
away to the Sun River” (the Sun River flows into the
Missouri, and the forks lie below Benton). “ They caught

THE GREAT LONE LAND, 269

the darned red devils and strapped them on a horse, and
swore that if they didn’t just lead the way to their camp
that they’d blow their b brains out; and Jim Baker
wasn’t the coon to go under if he said he’d do it—no, you
bet he wasn’t. So the red devils showed the trail, and
soon the boys came out on a wide gulch, and saw down
below the lodges of the ‘Pagans.’ Baker just says, ‘Now,
boys,’ says he, ‘ thar’s the devils, and just you go in and
clear them out. No darned prisoners, you know; Uncle
Sam ain’t agoin’ to keep prisoners, I guess. No darned
squaws or young uns, but just kill ’em all, squaws and all ;
it’s them squaws what breeds ’em, and them young uns will
only be horse-thieves or hair-lifters when they grows up ;
so Just make a clean shave of the hull brood.’ Wall, mister,
ye see, the boys jist rode in among the lodges afore daylight,
and they killed every thing that was able to come out of the
tents, for, you see, the redskins had the small-pox bad, they
had, and a heap of them ecouldn’t come out nohow; so the
‘boys jist turned over the lodges and fixed them as they lay
on the ground. Thar was up to 170 of them Pagans wiped
out that mornin’, and thar was only one of the boys sent
under by a redskin firing out at him from inside a lodge. I
say, mister, that Baker’s a bell-ox among sodgers, you bet.”

One month after this slaughter on the Sun River a
band of Peagins were met on the Bow River by a
French missionary pricst, the only missionary whose
daring spirit has carried him into the country of these
redoubted tribes. They told him of the cruel loss their
tribe had suffered at the hands of the “ Long-knives;” but
they spoke of it as the fortune of war, as a thing to
be deplored, but to be also revenged: it was after the
manner of their own war, and it did not strike them as
brutal or cowardly; for, alas! they knew no better. But

270 {PHE GREAT LONE LAND.

what shall be said of these herocs—the outscourings of
Europe—who, under the congenial guidance of that “ bell-
ox” soldier Jim Baker, “ wiped out them Pagan redskins ” ?
This meeting of the missionary with the Indians was in
its way singular. The priest, thinking that the loss of so
many lives would teach the tribe how useless must be a war
carried on against the Americans, and how its end must
inevitably be the complete destruction of the Indians, asked
the chief to assemble his band to listen to his counsel and
advice. They met together in the council-tent, and then
the priest began. He told them that “ their recent loss was
ouly the beginning of their destruction, that the Long-
knives had countless braves, guns and rifles beyond number,
fieet steeds, and huge war-canoes, and that it was useless
for the poor wild man to attempt to stop their progress
through the great Western solitudes.” He asked them
“ why were their fuces black and their hearts heavy? was it
.not for their relatives and friends so lately killed, and would
it not be better to make peace while yet they could do it,
and thus save the lives of their remaining friends?”

While thus he spoke there reigned a deep silence through
the council-tent, each one looked fixedly at the ground
before him; but when the address was over the chief rose
quietly, and, casting around a look full of dignity, he
asked, “ My brother, have you done, or is there aught you
would like yet to say to us?”

To this the priest made answer that he had no more
to say.

“Tt is well,” answered the Indian ; “and listen now to
what I say to you; but first,” he said, turning to his men,
“you, my brethren, you, my sons, who sit around me, if
there should be aught in my words from which you differ,
if I say one word that you would not say yourselves, stop

THE GREAT LONE LAND. 971

me, and say to this black-robe I speak with a forked
tongue.” Then, turning again to the priest, he continued,
“You have spoken true, yout wsr2z come straight; the
Long-knives are too many and too strong for us; their
guns shoot farther than ours, their big guns shoot twice ”
(alluding to shells which exploded after they fell); “ their
numbers are as the buffalo were in the days of our fathers.
But what of all that? do you want us to starve on the
land which is ours? to lie down as slaves to the white
man, to die away one by one in misery and hunger? It
is true that the Long-knives must kill us, but I say still,
to my children and to my tribe, fight on, fight on, fight
on! go on fighting to the very last man; and let that last
man go on fighting too, for it is better to die thus, as a
brave man should die, than to live a little time and then
die like a coward. So now, my brethren, I tell you, as I
have told you before, keep fighting still. When you sce
these men coming along the river, digging holes in the
ground and looking for the little bright sand” (gold), “kill
them, for they mean to kill you; fight, and if it must be,
die, for you can only die once, and it is better to die than
to starve.”

He ceased, and a universal hum of approval ranning
through the dusky warriors told how truly the chief had
spoken the thoughts of his followers. Again he said,
“ What does the white man want in our land? You tell us
he is rich and strong, and has plenty of food to eat; for
what then does he come to ourland? We have only the
buffalo, and he takes that from us. See the buffalo, how
they dwell with us; they care not for the closeness of our
lodges, the smoke of our camp-fires does not fright them, the
shouts of our young men will not drive them away; but
behold how they fice from the sight, the sound, and the

272 THE GREAT LONE LAND.

smell of the white man! Why does he take the land from
us? who sent him here? He puts up sticks, and he calls
the Jand his land, the river his river, the trees his trees.
Who gave him the ground, and the water, and the trees?
was it the Great Spirit? No; for the Great Spirit gave to
us the beasts and the fish, and the white man comes to
take the waters and the ground where these fishes and
these beasts live—why does he not take the sky as well
as the ground? We who have dwelt on these prairies ever
since the stars fell” (an epoch from which the Blackfeet are
fond of dating their antiquity) “do not put sticks over the
land and say, Between these sticks this land is mine; you
shall not come here or go there.”

Fortunate is it for these Blackfeet tribes that their hunt-
ing grounds lie partly on British territory—from where
our midday camp was made on the 2nd December to the
boundary-line at the 49th parallel, fully 180 miles of
plain knows only the domination of the Blackfeet tribes.
Here, around this midday camp, lies spread a fair and
fertile land; but close by, scarce half a day’s journey to
the south, the sandy plains begin to supplant the rich
grass-covered hills, and that immense central desert
commences to spread out those ocean-like expanses which
find their southern limits far down by the waters of the
Canadian River,1200 miles due south of the Saskatchewan.
This immense central sandy plateau is the true home of the
bison. Here were raised for countless ages these huge
herds whose hollow tramp shook the solid roof of America
during the countless cycles which it remained unknown to
man. Here, too, was the true home of the Indian: the
Commanche, the Apache, the Kio-wa, the Arapahoe, the
Shienne, the Crow, the Sioux, the Pawnee, the Omahaw,
the Mandan, the Manatarree, the - Blackfeet, the Cree, and

THE GREAT LONE LAND. + 273

the Assineboine divided between them the immense region,
warring and wandering through the vast expanses until
the white race from the East pushed their way into the
land, and carved out states and territories from the
Mississippi to the Rocky Mountains. How it came to
pass in the building of the world that to the north of that
great region of sand and waste should spread out suddenly
the fair country of the Saskatchewan, I must leave to the
guess-work of other and more scientific writers; but the
fact remains, that alone, from Texas to the sub-Arctic forest,
the Saskatchewan Valley lays its fair length for $00 miles
in unmixed fertility.

But we must resume our Western way. The evening of
the 3rd December found us crossing a succession of wooded
hills which divide the water system of the North from -
that of the South Saskatchewan. These systems come so
close together at this region, that while my midday kettle
was filled with water which finds its way through Battle
River into the North Saskatchewan, that of my evening
meal was taken from the ice of the Pas-co-pee, or Blindman’s
River, whose waters seek through Red Deer River the
South Saskatchewan.

It was near sunset when we rode by the lonely shores of
the Gull Lake, whose frozen surface stretched beyond the
horizon to the north. Before us, at a distance of some
ten miles, lay the abrupt line of the Three Medicine Hills,
from. whose gorges the first view of the great range of the
Rocky Mountains was destined to burst upon my sight.
But not on this day was-I to behold that long-looked-for
vision. Night came quickly down upon the silent wilder-
ness; and it was long after dark when we made our camps
by the bank of the Pas-co-pee, or Blindman’s River, and
turned adrift the weary horses to graze in a well-grassed

274. TIE GREAT LONE LAND.

meadow lying in one of the curves of the river. We had
ridden more than sixty miles that day.

About midnight a heavy storm of snow burst upon us,
and daybreak revealed the whole camp buried deep in snow.
As I threw back the blankets from my head (one always
lies covered up completely), the wet, cold mass struck
chillily upon my face. The snow was wet and sticky, and
therefore things were much more wretched than if the tem- ,
perature had been lower; but the hot tea made matters
seem brighter, and about breakfast-time the snow ceased to
fall and the clouds began to clear away. - Packing our wet
Llankets together, we set out for the Three Medicine Hills,
through whose defiles our course lay ; the snow was deep in
the narrow valleys, making travelling slower and: more
laborious than before. It was midday when, having rounded
the highest of the three hills, we entered a narrow ‘gorge
fringed with a fire-ravaged forest. This gorge wound through
the hills, preventing a far-reaching view ahead; but at
length its western termination was reached, and there lay
before me a sight tobe long remembered. The great chain
of the Rocky Mountains rose their snow-clad sierras in
endless succession. Climbing one of the eminences, I gained
a vantage-point on the summit from which some by-gone
fire had swept the trees. Then, looking west, I beheld the
great range in unclouded glory. The snow had cleared
the atmosphere, the sky was coldly bright. An immense
plain stretched from my feet to the mountain—a plain so
vast that every object of hill and wood and lake lay dwarfed
ito one continuous Jevel, and at the back of this level,
-heyond the pines: and the Jakes «nd the river-courses,
rose the giant tange, solid, impassable, silent—a mighty
harrier rising midst an immense Jand, standing sentinel
over the plains and prairies of America, over the measure-

SOP THE SASK ATO MEWAS,

MIE WOURY MoUs DAINS Ar stn sores

THE GREAT LONE LAND. 275
less solitudes of this Great Lone Land. Here, at last, lay the
Rocky Mountains.

Leaving behind the Medicine Hills, we descended into the
plain and held our way until sunset towards the west. It was
acalm and beautiful evening; far-away objects stood outsharp
and distinct in the pure atmosphere of these elevated regions.
For some hourswe had lost sight of the mountains, butshortly
before sunset the summit of a long ridge was gained, andthey
burst suddenly into view in greater magnificence than at
midday. Telling my men to go on and make the camp at
the Medicine River, I rode through some fire-wasted forest
to a lofty grass-covered height which the declinmg sun was
bathing in floods of glory. I cannot hope to put into the
compass of words the scene which lay rolled beneath from
this sunset-lighted eminence; for, as I looked over the
immense plain and watched the slow descent of the evening
sun upon the frosted crest of these lone mountains, it
seemed as if the varied scenes of my long journey had
woven themselves into the landscape, filling with the music
of memory the earth, the sky, and the mighty panorama
of mountains. Here at length lay the barrier to my onward
wanderings, here lay the boundary to that 4000 miles of
unceasing travel which had carried me by so many varied
scenes so far into the lone land; and other thoughts were
not wanting. The peaks on which I gazed were no
pigmies; they stood the culminating monarchs of the
mighty range of the Rocky Mountains. From the estuary
of the Mackenzie to the Lake of Mexico no point of the
American continent reaches nigher to the skies. ‘That
eternal crust of snow seeks in summer widely-severed.
oceans. The Mackenzie, the Columbia, and the Saskatche-
wan spring from the peaks whose teeth-like summits lie
grouped from this spot into the compass ofa single glance.

tT 2

276 THE GREAT LONE LAND.

The clouds that cast their moisture upon this long line
of upheaven rocks seek again the ocean which gave them
birth in its far-separated divisions of Atlantic, Pacific, and
Aretic. The sun sank slowly behind the range and dark-
ness began to fall on the immense plain, but aloft on the
topmost edge the pure white of the jagged crest-line
glowed for an instant in many-coloured silver, and then
the lonely peaks grew dark and dim.

As thus I watched from the silent bill-top this’ great
mountain-chain, whose summits slept in the glory of the
sunset, it seemed no stretch of fancy which made the red
man place his paradise beyond their golden peaks. The
“Mountains of the Setting Sun,” the “ Bridge of the World,”
thus he has named them, and beyond them the soul first
catches a glimpse of that mystical land where the tents are
pitched midst everlasting verdure and countless herds and
the music of ceaseless streams.

That night there came a frost, the first of real severity that
had fallen upon us. At daybreak next morning, the 5th De-
cember, my thermometer showed 22° below zero, and, in spite
of buffalo boots and moose “ mittaines,” the saddle proved a
freezing affair; many a time I got down and trotted on in
front of my horse until fect and hands, eased as they were,
began to be felt again. But the morning, though piercingly
cold, was bright with sunshine, and the snowy range was
lighted up in many a fair hue, and the contrasts of pine
wood and snow and towering wind-swept cliff showed in
rich beauty. As the day wore on we entered the pine
forest which stretches to the base of the mountuins, and
emerged suddenly upon the high banks of the Saskatchewan.
The river here ran in a deep, wooded valley, over the
western extremity of which rose the Rocky Mountains; the
windings of the river showed distinctly from the height on

THE GREAT LONE LAND. 277

which we stood ; and in mid-distance the light blue smoke
of the Mountain House curled in fair contrast from amidst
a maass of dark green pines.

Leaving my little party to get my baggage across the
Clear Water River, I rode on ahead to the fort. While
yet a long way off we had been descried by the watchful
eyes of some Rocky Mountain Assineboines, and our
arrival had been duly telegraphed to the officer in charge.
As usual, the excitement was intense to know what
the strange party could mean. The denizens of the
place looked upon themselves as closed up for the winter,
and the arrival of a party with a baggage-cart at such a time
betokened something unusual. Nor was this excitement at
all lessened when in answer to 2 summons from the opposite
bank of the Saskatchewan I announced my name and place
of departure. The river was still open, its rushing waters
had resisted so far the efforts of the winter to cover them
up, but the ice projected a considerable distance from either
shore; the open water in the centre was, however, shallow,
and when the rotten ice had been cut away on each side I
was able to force my horse into it. In he went with a great
splash, but he kept his feet nevertheless; then at the other
side the people of the fort had eut away the ice too, and
again the horse scrambled safely up. The long ride to the
West was over; exactly forty-one days earlier I had left
Red River, and in twenty-seven days of actual travel I had
ridden 1180 miles.

The Rocky Mountain House of the Hudson Bay Com-
pany stands in a level meadow which is clear of trees,
although dense forest lies around it at some little dis-
tance. It is indifferently situated with regard to the
Indian trade, being too far from the Plain Indians, who
seek in the American posts along the Missouri a nearer

27% TUE GREAT LONE CAND.

and more profitable exchange for their goods; while the
wooded district in which it lies produces furs of a second-
class quality, and. has for years been deficient in game. The
neivhbouring forest, however, supplies a rich store of the
white spruce for boat-building, and several full-sized
Hudson Bay boats are built annually at the fort. Coal
of very fair quality is also plentiful along the river banks,
and the forge glows with the ruddy light of a real coal fire
—a friendly sight when one has not seen it durimg many
mouths. The Mountain House stands within the limits of
the Rocky Mountain Assineboines, a branch of the once
fimous AssinclLomes of the Plains whose wars in times not
very remote made them the terror of the prairies which lie
between the middle Missouri and the Saskatchewan. The
Assineboines derive their name, which” signifies “stone-
heaters,” from a custom in vogue among ‘them before the
advent of the traders into their country. “Their manner of
boiling meat was as follows: a round hole was scooped iz
the carth, and into the hole was sunk a piece of raw hide;
this was filled with water, and the buffalo meat placed in it,
then a fire was lighted close by and a number of round stones
made red hot ; in this state they were dropped into, or held
in, the water, which was thus raised to boiling temperature
und the meat cooked. When the white man came he sold
his kettle to the stone-heaters, and henceforth the practice
disappeared, while the name it had given rise to remained—
a name which long after the final extinction of the tribe-
will still exist in the River Assineboine and its surroundings.
Nothing testifies more conclusively to the varied changes
and vicissitudes of Indian tribes than the presence of this
branch of the Assineboine nation in the pine forests of the
Rocky Mountains. It is not yeta hundred years since the
Ossinepoilles” were found by one of the earliest traders

TNE GREAT LONE LAND. 279

inhabiting the country between the head of the Pasquayah
or Saskatchewan and the country of the Sioux, a stretch
of territory fully 900 miles in length.

Twenty years later they still were numerous along the
whole line of the North Saskatchewan, and their lodges
were at intervals seen along a river line of 800 miles in
‘length, but even then a great change had come upon them.
’ In 1780 the first epidemic of small-pox swept over the
Western plains, and almost annihilated the powerful Assinc-
boines. The whole central portion of the tribe was destroyed,
but the outskirting portions drew together and again
made themselves a terror to trapper and trader. In 1521
they were noted for their desperate forays, and for many
years later a fierce conflict raged between them and the
Blackfeet; under the leadership of a chief still famous in
Indian story—Tchatka, or the “ Left-handed ;” they for a
longtime morethan held their own against these redoubtable
warriors. Tchatka was a medicine-man of the first order,
and by .the exercise of his superior cunning and dream
power he was implicitly relied on by his followers ; at length
fortune deserted -him, and he fell in a bloody battle with
the Gros Ventres near the Knife River, a branch of the
Missouri, in 1837. About the same date small-pox again
swept the tribe, and they almost disappeared from the
‘prairies. The Crees too pressed down from the North and
East, and occupied a great portion of their territory ; the
relentless Blackfeet smoté them hard on the south-west
frontier;‘and thus, between foes and disease, the Assineboines
of to-day have dwindled down into far-seattered remnants
of tribes. "Warned by the tradition of the frightful losses
of earlier times from the ravages of small-pox, the Assine-
boines this year kept far out in the great central prairie
along the coteau, and escaped the infection altogether, but

280 TUE GREAT LONE LAND.

their cousins, the Rocky Mountain Stonies, were not so for-
tunate, they lost some of their bravest men during the pre-
ecding summer and autumn. Even under the changed
circumstances of their present lives, dwelling amidst the
forests and rocks instead of in the plains and open country,
these Assineboines of the Mountains retain many of the
better characteristics of their race; they are brave and skil-
ful men, good hunters of red deer, moose, and big horn, |
and are still held in dread by the Blackfeet, who rarely
venture into their country. They are well acquainted with
the valleys and passes through the mountains, and will
probably take a horse over as rough ground as any men in
creation.

At the ford on the Clear Water River, halfa mile from
the Mountain House, a small clump of old pine-trees
stands on the north side of the stream. A few years ago
alarge band of Blood Indians camped round this clump
of pines during a trading expedition to the Mountain
House. They were under the leadership of two young
chiefs, brothers. One evening a dispute about some trifling
matter arose, words ran high, there was a flash of a scalping-
knife, a plunge, and one brother recled back with a fearful
gash in his side, the other stalked slowly to his tent and
sat down silent and impassive. The wounded man loaded
his gun, and keeping the fatal wound closed together with
one hand walked steadily to his brother’s tent ; pulling back
the door-casing, he placed the muzzle of his gun to the
heart of the man who sat immovable all the time, and shot
him dead, then, removing his hand from his own mortal
wound, he fell lifeless beside his brother’s body. They
buried the two brothers in the same grave by the shadow of
the dark pine-trees. The band to which the chiefs belonged
broke up and moved away intothe greatplains—thereckoning

THE GREAT LONE LAND. 281

of blood had been paid, and the account was closed. Many
tales of Indian war and revenge could I tell—tales gleaned
from trader and missionary and voyageur, and told by
camp-fire or distant trading post, but there is no time
to recount them now, a long period of travel lies before me
and I must away to enter upon it; the scattered thread
must be gathered up and tied together too quickly, perhaps,
for the success of this wandering story, but not an hour too
soon for the success of another expedition into a still farther
and more friendless region. Eight days passed pleasantly
at the Mountain House; rambles by day into the neigh-
bouring hills, stories of Indian life and prairie scenes told
at the evening fire filled up the time, and it was near
mid-December before I thought of moving my quarters.

The Mountain Houseis perhapsthemost singularspecimen
of an Indian trading post to be found in the wide territory
of the Hudson Bay Company. Every precaution known
to the traders has been put in force to prevent the possibility
of surprise during “a trade.” Bars and bolts and places
to fire down at the Indians who are trading abound in
every direction; so dreaded is the name borne by the Black-
feet, that it is thus their trading post has been constructed.
Some fifty years ago the Company had a post far south on
the Bow River in the very heart of the Blackfeet country.
Despite of all precautions it was frequently plundered and
at last burnt down by the Blackfeet, and since that date
no attempt has ever been made to erect another fort in
their country.

Still, I believe the Blackfeet and their confederates are
not nearly so bad as they have been painted, those among
the Hudson Bay Company who are best acquainted with
them are of the same opinion, and, to use the words of Pe-
to-pee, or the Perched Eagle, to Dr. Hector in 1857, “We

282 "ITE GREAT LUNE LAND.

see but little of the white man,” he said, “and our young men
do not kuow how to behave; butif you come among us, the
chiefs will restrain the young men, for we have power over
them. Butlook at the Crees, they have long lived in the
company of white men, and nevertheless they are just
like dogs, they try to bite when your head is turned—they
have no manners ; but the Blackfeet have large hearts and
they love to show hospitality.” Without going the length
of Pe-to-pee in this estimate of the virtues of his tribe, I am
sill of opinion that under proper management these wild
wandering men might be made trusty friends. We have
been too much inclined to believe all the bad things said of
them by other tribes, aud, as they are at war with every
nation around them, the wickedness of the Blackfeet has
grown into a proverb among men. But to go back to the
trading house. When the Blackfeet arrive on a trading
visit to the Mountain Tlouse they usually come in large
numbers, prepared for a brush with either Crees or Stonies.
The camp is formed at some distance from the fort, and
the braves, having piled their robes, leather, and provisions
on the Lacks of their wives or their horses, approach in long
cavalcade. The officer goes out to meet them, and the gates
are closed. Many speeches are made, and the chief, to
show his “big heart,” usually piles on top of a horse
a heterogeneous mass of buffalo robes, pemmican, and
dried meat, and hands horse and all he carries over to the
trader. After such a present no man can possibly enter-
tain for a moment a doubt upon the subject of the big-
heartedness of the donor, but if, in the trade which ensues
after this present has been made, it should happen that fifty
horses are bought by the Company, not one of all the band
will cost so dear as that which demonstrates the large-
heartedness of the brave.

WIE GREAT LONE LAND. 283

Money-values are entirely unknown in these trades. The
values of articles are computed by “skins ;” for instance, a
horse will be reckoned at 60 skins; and these 60 skins will be
given thus: a gun, 15 skins; a capote, 10 skins; a blanket,
10 skins ; ball and powder, 10 skins; tobacco, 15 skins—
total, 60 skins. The Bull Ermine, or the Four Bears, or the
Red Daybreak, or whatever may be the brave’s name, hands
over the horse, and gets in retura a blanket, a gun, 2
capote, ball and powder, and tobacco. The term “ skin” is
a very old one in the fur trade; the original standard,
the beaver skin—or, as it was culed, “ the made beaver ”—~
was the medium of exchange, and every other skin and
article of trade was graduated upon the seale of the beaver ;
thus a beaver, or a skin, was reckoned equivalent to 1 mink
skin, one marten was equal to 2 skins, one black fox 20
skins, and so on ; in the same manner, a blanket, a capote, a
gun, or a kettle had their different values in skins. This
bemg explained, we will now proceed with the trade.
Sapoomaxica, or the Big Crow’s Foot, having demonstrated
the bigness of his heart, and received in return a tangible
proof of the corresponding size of the trader’s, addresses his
braves, cautioning them against violence or rough behaviour
—the braves, standing ready with their peltries, are in a
high state of excitement to begin the trade. Within the fort
all the preparations have been completed, communication
ent off between the Indian room and the rest of the buildings,
guns placed up in the loft overhead, and men all get ready
for any thing that might turn up; then the outer gate is
thrown open, and a large throng enters the Indian room.
Three or four of the first-comers are now admitted through
a narrow passage into the trading-shop, from the shelves of
which most of the blankets, red cloth, and beads have been
removed, for the red man brought into the presence of so

984. THE GREAT LONE LAND.

much finery would unfortunately behave very much after
the manner of a hungry boy put in immediate juxtaposition
to bath-buns, cream-cakes, and jam-fritters, to the com-
plete collapse of profit upon the trade to the Hudson
Bay Company. The first Indians admitted hand in their
peltries through a wooden grating, and receive in exchange
so many blankets, beads, or strouds. Out they go to the
large hall where their comrades are anxiously awaiting
their turn, and in rush another batch, and the doors are
locked again. The reappearance of the fortunate braves
with the much-coveted articles of finery adds immensely
' to the excitement. What did they see inside? “Oh, not
much, only a few dozen blankets and a few guns, and a
little tea and sugar ;” this is terrible news for the outsiders,
and the crush to get in increases tenfold, under the belief that
the good things will all be gone. So the trade progresses,
until at Jast all the peltries and provisions have changed
hands, and there is nothing more to be traded; but some-
times things do not run quite so smoothly. Sometimes,
when the stock of pemmican or robes is small, the braves ob-
ject to see their “pile” go for a little parcel of tea or sugar.
The steelyard and weighing-balance are their especial
objects of dislike. ‘“ What for you put on one side tea or
sugar, and on the other a little bit of iron?” they say; “we
don’t know what that medicine is—but, look here, put on
one side of that thing that swings a bag of pemmican, and
put on the other side blankets and tea and sugar, and then,
when the two sides stop swinging, you take the bag of
pemmican and we will take the blankets and the tea: that
would be fair, for one side will be as big as the other.”
This is 2 very bright idea on the part of the Four
Bears, and elicits universal satisfaction all round. Four
Bears and his brethren are, however, a little bit put out of

THE GREAT LONE LAND. 285

conceit when the trader observes, “Well, let be as you
say. We will make the balance swing level between the
bag of pemmican and the blankets, but we will carry out the
idea still further. You will put your marten skins and
your otter and fisher skins on one side, I will put against
them on the other my blankets, and my gun and ball and
powder; then, when both sides are level, you will take the
ball and powder and the blankets, and I will take: the
marten and the rest of the fine furs.” This proposition
throws a new light upon the question of weighing-machines
and steelyards, and, after some little deliberation, it is
resolved to abide by the old plan of letting the white trader
decide the weight himself in his own way, for it is clear
that the steelyard is a great medicine which no brave
can understand, and which can only be manipulated by
a white medicine-man.

This white medicine-man was in olden times a terrible
demon in the eyes of the Indian. His power reached far
into the plains; he possessed three medicines of the very
highest order: his heart could sing, demons sprung from
the light of his candle, and he had a little box stronger
than the strongest Indian. When a large band of the
Blackfeet would assemble at Edmonton, years ago, the
Chief Factor would wind up his musical box, get his magic
lantern ready, and take out his galvanic battery. Im-
parting with the last-named article a terrifie shock to the
frame of the Indian chief, he would warn him that far out
in the plains he could at willinflict the same medicine upon
him if he ever bebaved badly. “Look,” he would say,
now my heart beats for you,” then the spring of the little
musical box concealed under his coat would be touched, and
lo! the heart of the white trader would sing with the strength
of his Jove for the Blackfeet. “To-morrow I start to cross

286 TIE GREAT LONE LAND.

the mountains against the Nez Perces,” a chief would say,
“what says my white brother, don’t he dream that my arm
will be strong in battle, and that the scalps and horses of
the Nez Perces will be ours?” “I have dreamt that you
are to draw one of these two little sticks which I hold in
my hand. If you draw the right one, your arm will be
strong, your eye keen, the horses of the Nez Perces will be
yours ; but, listen, the fleetest horse must come to me; you
will have to give me the best steed in the band of the Nez
Perees. Woe betide you if you should draw the wrong
stick!” Trembling with fear, the Blackfoot would approach
and draw the bit of wood. “My brother, you are a great
chief, you have drawn the right stick—your fortune is
assured, go.” Three weeks later a magnificent horse, the
pride ofsome Nez Perce chief on the lower Columbia, would
he led into the fort on the Saskatchewan, and when next
the Blackfoot chief came to visit the white medicine-man a
couple of freshly taken scalps would dangle from his spear-
shaft.

In. former times, when rum was used in the trade, the most
frightful scenes were in the habit of oceurring in the Indian
room. The fire-water, although freely diluted with water
soon reduced the assemblage to a state of wild hilarity,
quickly followed by stupidity and sleep. The fire-water for
the Crees was composed of three parts of water to one of
spirit, that of the Blackfeet, seven of water to one of spirit,
but so potent is the power which aleohol in any shape
exercises over the red man, that the Blackfeet, even upon
his well-diluted liquor, was wont to become helplessly in-
tomeated. The trade usually began with a present of fire-
water all round—then the business went on apace. Horses,
robes, tents, provisions, all would be proffered for one more
drink at the beloved poison. Nothing could exceed the

THE GREAT LONE LAND. 287

excitement inside the tent, except it was the excitement
outside. There the anxious crowd could only Jearn by
hearsay what was goingon within. Now and then a brave,
with an amount of self-abnegation worthy of a better cause,
would issue from the tent with his checks distended and
his mouth full of the fire-water, and going along the ranks
of his friends he would. squirt a little of the liquor into the
open moxths of his less fortunate brethren.

But things did not always go so smoothly. Knives
were wont to flash, shots to be fired—even now the walls of
the Indian rooms at Fort Pitt and Edmonton show many
traces of bullet marks and knife hacking done in the wild
fury of the intoxicated savage. Some ten years ago this
most baneful distribution was stopped by the Hudson Bay
Company in the Saskatchewan district, but the free
traders still continued to employ aleohol as a means of
acquiring the furs belonging to the Indians. I was the
bearer of an Order in Council from the Lieutenant-Governor
prohibiting, under heavy penalties, the sale, distribution, or
possession of aleohol, and this law, if hereafter enforced,
will do much to remove at least one leading source of Indian
demoralization.

The universal passion for dress is strangely illustrated in
the Western Indian. His ideal of perfection is the English
costume of some forty years ago. The tall chimney-pot
hat with round narrow brim, the coat with high collar
going up over the neck, sleeves tight-fitting, waist narrow.
All this is perfection, and the chief who can array himself
in this ancient garb struts out of the fort the envy and
admiration of all beholders. Sometimes the tall felt
chimney-pot is graced by a large feather which has done
duty in the turban of a dowager thirty years ago in Eng-
land. The addition of a little gold tinsel to the enat

288 THE GREAT LONE LAND.

collar is of considerable consequence, but the presence
of a nether garment is not at all requisite to the
completeness of the general get-up. For this most ridicu-
lous-looking costume a Blackfeet chief will readily es-
change his beautifully-dressed deerskin Indian shirt—
embroidered with porcupine quills and ornamented with the
raven locks of his enemies—his head-dress of ermine skins,
his flowing buffalo robe: a dress in which he looks every
inch a savage king for one in which he looks every inch a
foolish savage. But the new dress does not long survive—
bit by bit it is found unsuited to the wild work which its
owner has to perform; and although it never loses the
high estimate originally set upon it, it, nevertheless, is
discarded by virtue of the many inconveniences arising out
of running buffalo in a tall beaver, or fighting in a tail-
coat against Crees.

During the days spent in the Mountain ‘House I enjoyed
the society of the most enterprising and best informed
Inissionary in the Indian countries—M. la Combe. This
gentleman, a native of Lower Canada, has devoted himself
for more than twenty years to the Blackfeet and Crees of
the far-West, sharing their sufferings, their hunts, their
summer journeys, and their winter camps—sharing even,
unwillingly, their war forays and night assaults. The
devotion which he has evinced towards these poor wild
warriors has not been thrown away upon them, and Pére
la Combe is the only man who can pass and repass from
Blackfoot camp to Cree camp with perfect impunity when
these long-lasting enemies are at war. On one occasion he
was camped with a small party of Blackfeet south of the
Red Deer River. It was night, and the lodges were silent
and dark, all save one, the lodge of the chief, who had
invited the black-robe to his tent for the night and was

THE GREAT LUNE LAND. 289

conversing with him as they lay on the buffalo robes, while
the fire in the centre of the lodge burned clear and bright.
Every thing was quiet, and no thought of war-party or
lurking enemy was entertained. Suddenly a small dog
put his head into the lodge. A dog is such an ordinary and
inevitable nuisance in the camp of the Indians, that the
missionary never even noticed the partial intrusion. Not
so the Indian ; he hissed out, “It is a Cree dog. We are
surprised! run!” then, catching his gun in one hand and
dragging his wife by the other, he darted from his tent
into the darkness. Not one second too soon, for instantly
there crashed through the leather lodge some score of
bullets, and the wild war-whoop of the Crees broke forth
through the sharp and rapid detonation of many muskets.
The Crees were upon them in force. Darkness, and the
want of a dashing leader on the part of the Crees, saved
the Blackfeet from total destruction, for nothing could
have helped them had their enemies charged home; but
as soon as the priest had reached the open—which he did
when he saw how matters stood—he called loudly to the
Blackfeet not to run, but to stand and return the fire of
their attackers. This timely advice checked the onslaught of
the Crees, who were in numbers more than sufficient to make
an end of the Blackfeet party in a few minutes. Mean-
time, the Blackfeet women delved busily in the earth
with knife and finger, while the men fired at random into
the darkness. The lighted, semi-transparent tent of the
chief had given a mark for the guns of the Crees; but that
was quickly overturned, riddled with balls; and although
the Crees continued to fire without intermission, their shots
generally went high. Sometimes the Crees would charge
boldly up to within a few feet of their enemies, then fire

and rush back again, yelling all the time, and taunting
U z

290 TUE GREAT LONE LAND.

their enemies. The pere spent the night in attending to
the wounded Blackfeet. When day dawned the Crees
drew off to count their losses; Dut it was afterwards
ascertained that eivhteen of thetr braves had been killed or
wounded, and of the small party of Blackfeet twenty had
fallen—but who cared? Both sides kept their scalps, and
that was every thing.

This battle served not a little to inerease the reputation
in which the missionary was held as a “ great medicine
man.” The Blackfeet ascribed to his “ medicine” what was
really dne to bis pluck; and. the Crees, when they Jearnt
that he had been with their enemies during the fight, at
once found in that fact a satisfactory explanation for the
want of courage they had displayed.

But it is time to quit the Mountain House, for winter
has run on into mid-December, and 1500 miles have yet
to be travelled, but not travelled towards the South. The
most trusty guide, Piscan Munro, was away on the plains;
and as day after day passed by, making the snow a. little
deeper and the cold a little colder, it was evident that the
passage of the 400 miles intervening between the Mountain
House and the nearest American Fort had become almost
an impossibility.

THE GREAT LONE LAND. 291

CHAPTER XVII.
Eastwaro—aA BEAUTIFUL LIGHT.

On the 12th of December I said “Good-bye” to my
friends at the Mountain House, and, crossing the now
iee-bound torrent of the Saskatchewan, turned my steps,
for the first time during many months, towards the East.
With the same two men, and eight horses, I passed
quickly through the snow-covered country. One day later
I looked my lIast look at the far-stretching range of the
Rocky Mountains from the lonely ridges of the Medicine
Hills. Henceforth there would be no mountains. That
immense region through which I had travelled—from
Quebee to these Three Medicine Hills—has not a single
mountain ridge in its long 3000 miles; woods, streams,
and mighty rivers, ocean-lakes, rocks, hills, and prairies,
but no mountains, no rough cloud-seceking summit on
which to rest the eye that loves the bold outline of peak
and precipice.

“ Ah! doctor, dear? said an old Highland woman,
dying in the Red River Settlement long years after she
had Jeft her Highland home—“Ah! doctor, dear, if I
could but see a wee bit of a hill, I think I might get well
again.”

Cazped that night near a beaver lodge on the Pus-co-pe,
the conversation turned upon the mountains we had just

left.

992 THE GREAT LONE LAND.

“ Are they the greatest mountains in the world ?” asked
Paul Foyale.

“No, there are others nearly as big again.”

“Ys the Company there, too?” again inquired the
faithful Paul.

I was obliged to admit that the Company did not exist
in the country of these very big mountains, and I rather
fear that the admission somewhat detracted from the
altitude of the Himalayas in the estimation of my
hearers.

About an hour before daybreak on the 16th of December
a very remarkable light was visible for some time in the
zenith. <A central orb, or heart of red and crimson
light, became suddenly visible a little to the north of the
zenith ; around this most luminous centre was a great ring
or circle of bright light, and from this outer band there
flashed innumerable rays far into the surrounding darkness.
As I looked at it, my thoughts travelled far away to the
proud city by the Seine. ‘Was she holding herself bravely
against the German hordes? In olden times these weird
lights of the sky were supposed only to flash forth when
“kings or herces” fell. Did the sky mirror the earth,
even as the ocean mirrors the sky? While I looked at the
gorgeous spectacle blazing above me, the great heart of
France was red with the blood of her sons, and from the
circles of the German league there flashed the glare of
cannon round the doomed but defiant city.

JHE GREAT LONE LAND. 993

CHAPTER XIX.

I starr rrom Enmuoyton witn Docs—Doc-Travertisc—Tne Cannr
Sacx—A corp Day—Victorta—* Seyt to Rome ”’—Reacu Fort
Pirt—Tue Burp Cree—aA Feast on a Fawrse—Deatu or Pe-
Na-KOAM THE BLAGKEOOT.

I was now making my way back to Edmonton, with the
intention of there exchanging my horses for dogs, and
then endeavouring to make the return journcy to Red
River upon the ice of the River Saskatchewan. Dog-
travelling was a novelty. The cold had more than reached
the limit at which the saddle is a safe mode of travel, and
the horses suffered so much in pawing away the snow to
get within reach of the grass lying underneath, that I
longed to exchange them for the train of dogs, the painted
cariole, and little baggage-sled. It took me four days to
complete the arrangements necessary for my new journey ;
and, on the afternoon of the 20th December, I set out upon
a long journey, with dogs, down the valley of the Saskatche-
wan. I little thought then of the distance hefore me ; of the
intense cold through which I was destined to travel during
two entire months of most rigorous winter; how day by day
the frost was to harden, the snow to deepen, all nature to
sink more completely under the breath of the ice-king.
And it was well that all this was hidden from me at the
time, or perhaps I should have been tempted to remain
during the winter at Edmonton, until the spring had set
free once more the rushing waters of the Saskatchewan.

294 TUE GREAT LUNE LAND.

Behold me then on the 20th of December starting from
Edmonton with three trains of dogs—one to carry myself,
the other two to drag provisions, baggage, and blankets
and all the usual paraphernalia of winter travel. The cold
which, with the exception of a few nights’ severe frost, had
been so long delayed now seemed determined to atone for
lost time by becoming suddenly intense. On the night of
the 21st December we reached, just at dusk, a magnificent
clump of large pine-trees on the right bank of the river.
During the afternoon the temperature had fallen below
zero ; a keen wind blew along the frozen river, and the dogs
and men were glad to clamber up the steep clayey bank
into the thick shelter of the pine bluff, amidst whose
dark-green recesses a huge fire was quickly alight. “While
here we sit in the ruddy blaze of immense dry pine
logs it will be well to say a few words on dogs and dog-
driving.

Dogs in theterritories of the North-west have but one func-
tion—to haul. Pointer, setter, lurcher, foxhound, greyhound,
Indian mongrel, miserable cur or beautiful Esquimaux, all
alike are destined to pull a sled of some kind or other during
the months of snow and ice: all are destined to howl under the
driver’s lash; to tug wildly at the moose-skin collar ; to drag
until they can drag no more, and then todie. Atwhatage
a dog is put to haul I could never satisfactorily ascertain,
but I have seen dogs doing some kind of hauling long be-
fore the peculiar expression of the puppy’ had left their
countenances. Speaking now with the experience of nearly
fifty days of dog travelling, and the knowledge of some
twenty different trains of dogs of all sizes, ages, and de-
grees, watching them closely on the track and in the camp
during 1300 miles of travel, I may claim, I think, some
right to assert that I possess no inconsiderable insight into

TE GREAT LONE LAND. 295

the habits, customs, and thoughts (for a dog thinks far
better than many of his masters) of the “ hauling dog.”
When I Jook back again upon the long list of “ Whiskies,”
“ Brandies,” Chocolats,” “ Corheaus,” “ Tigres,” “ Téte
Noirs,” “Cerf Volants,” “Pilots,” Capitaines,” “ Cari-
boos,” “ Muskymotes,” “ Coffees,” and “ Michinassis ?” who
individually and collectively did their best to haul me and my
baggage over that immense waste of snow and ice, what a
host of sadly resigned faces rises up in the dusky light of
the fire! faces seared by whip-mark and blow of stick, faces
mutely conscious that that master for whom the dog gives
up every thing in this life was treating him in a most brutal
manner. I do not for an instant mean to assert that these
dogs were not, many of them, great rascals and rank impos-
tors; but just as slavery produces certain viees in the slave
which it would be unfair to hold him accountable for, so
does this perversion of the dog from his true use to that of
a beast of burthen produce in endless variety traits of eun-
ning and deception in the hauling-dog. To be a thorough
expert in dog-training a man must be able to impreeate
freely and with considerable variety in at least three diffe-
rent languages. But whatever number of tongues the driver
may speak, one is indispensable to perfection in the art, and
that is French : curses seem useful adjuncts in any language,
but curses delivered in French will get a train of dogs through
or over any thing. There is a good story told which illustrates
this peculiar feature in dog-training. It is said that a high
dignitary of the Church was once making a winter tour
through his missions in the North-west. The driver, out of
deference for his freight’s profession, abstained from the use
of forcible language to his dogs, and the hauling was very
indifferently performed. Soon the train came to the foot of
a hill, and notwithstanding all the eflorts of the driver with

296 THE GREALT LONE LAND.

whip and stick the dogs were unable to draw the cariole to
the summit.

“Oh,” said the Church dignitary, “this is not at all as
good a train of dogs as the one you drove last year; why,
they are unable to pull me up this hill!”

“No, monseigneur,” replied the owner of the dogs, “but
Iam driving them differently ; if you will only permit me
to drive them in the old way you will see how easily they
will pull the cariole to the top of this hill; they do not
understand my new method.”

“ By all means,” said the bishop ; “drive them then in
the usual manner.”

Instantly there rang out a long string of “ sacré chien,”
“sacré diable,” and still move unmentionable phrases. The
effect upon the dogs was magical; the eariole flew to the
summit ; the progress of the episcopal tour was undeniably
expedited, and a practical exposition was given of the poet’s
thought, “ From seeming evil still educing good.”

Dogs in the Hudson Bay territories haul in various
wars. The Esquimaux in the far-Nerth ron their dogs
abreast. The natives of Labrador and along the shores of
Hudson Bay harness their dogs by many separate lines in
a kind of band or pack, while in the Saskatchewan, and
Mackenzie River territories the dogs are put one after the
other, in tandem fashion. The usual number allowed to a
complete train is four, but three, and sometimes even two
are used. The train of four dogs is harnessed to the
eariole, or sled, by means of two long traces; between
these traces the dog's stand one after the other, the head of
one dog being about a foot behind the tail of the dog in front
ofhim. Ther.are attached to the traces by a round collar
which slips on over the head and ears and then lies close on
the swell of the neck ; this collar buckles on cach side to the

TIE GREAT LONE LAND. 997

traces, which are kept from touching the ground by a back
band of leather buttoned under the dog’s ribs or stomach.
This back band is generally covered with little brass bells;
the collar is also hung with larger bells, and tufts of gay-
coloured ribbons or fox-tails are put upon it. Great pride
is taken in turning out a train of dogs in good style. Beads,
bells, and embroidery are freely used to bedizen the poor
brutes, and a most comical effect is produced by the ap-
pearance of so much finery upon the wofully frightened dog,
who, when he is first put into his harness, usually looks the
picture of fear. The fact is patent that in hauling the dog
is put to a work from which his whole nature revolts, that
is to say the ordinary dog; with the beautiful dog of the
Esquimaux breed the case is very different. To haul is as
" natural to him as to point is natural to the pointer. He
alone looks jolly over the work and takes to it kindly, and
consequently he alone of all dugs is the best and most last-
ing hauler; longer than any other dog will his clean firm
feet hold tough over the trying ice, and althongh other dogs
will surpass him in the speed which they will maintain for
a few days, he alone can travel his many hundreds of miles
and finish fresh and hearty after all. It is a pleasure to sit
behind such a train of dogs ; it is a pain to watch the other
poor brutes toiling at their traces. But, after all, it is the
same with dog-driving as with every other thing; there are
dogs and there are dogs, and the distance from one to the
other is as great as that between 2 Thames’ barge and a
Cowes’ schooner.

The hauline-dog’s day is a long tissue of trial. While
yet the night is in its small hours, and the aurora is
beginning to think of hiding its trembling lustre in the
earliest dawn, the hauling-dog has his slumber rudely
broken by the summons of his driver. Poor beast! all

298 THE GREAT LONE LAND.

night Jong he has lain curled up in the roundest of round
balls hard by the eamp; there, m the lea of tree-stumps or
snow-drift, he has dreamt the dreams of peace and couut-
fort. If the night has been one of sterm, the fast-falling
flakes have added to his sense of warmth by covering him
completely beneath them. Perhaps, too, he will remain
unseen by the driver when the fatal moment comes for
harnessing-up. Not a bit of it. He les ever so quict
under the snow, but the rounded hillock betrays his hiding-
place, and he is dragged forth to the gaudy gear of bells
and moose-skin lying ready to receive him. Then comes
the start. The pine or aspen bluif is left behind, and under
the grey starlight we plod along through the snow. Day
dawns, sun rises, morning wears into midday, and it is
time to halt for dinner; then on again in Indian file, as
before. If there is no track in the snow a man goes in
front on snow-shoes, and the leading dog, or “ foregoer,” as
he is ealled, trots close behind him. If there should be a
track, however faint, the dog will follow it himself; and
when sight fails to show it, or storm has hidden it beneath
drifts, his sense of smell will enable him to keep straight.
Thus through the Jong waste we journey on, by frozen
lakelet, by willow copse, through pine forests or ever tree-
less prairie, until the winter’s day draws to its close and the
darkening landscape bids us seck some resting-place for the
night. Then the hauling-dog is taken out of the harness,
and his day’s work is at an end; his whip-marked face
begins to look less rueful, he stretches and rolls in the dry
powdery snow, and finally twists himself a bed and goes
fast asleep. But the real moment of pleasure is stili in
store for him. When our supper is over the chopping of
the axe on the block of pemmican, or the unloading of the
frozen white-fish from the provision-sled,-tells him that his

alld aN
UE

pet yl

LEAVIMG A COSY CAMP AT DAWA,

TNE GREAT LONE LAND. 299

is about to begin. He springs lightly up and watches
cagerly these preparations for his supper. On the plains
he receives a daily ration of 2Ibs. of pemmican. In the
forest and lake country, where fish is the staple food, he
gets two large white-fish raw. He prefers fish to meat, and
will work better on it too. His supper is soon over; there
is a short after-piece of growling and snapping at hungry
comrade, and then he lies down out in the snow to dream
that whips have been abolished and hauling is disearded for
ever, sleeping peacefully until morning, unless indeed some
band of wolves should prowl around and, scenting camp or
fire, howl their long chorus to the midnight skies.

And now, with this introductory digression on dogs, let
us return to our camp in the thick pine-bluff on the river
bank.

The night fell very cold. Between supper and bed
there is not much time when present cold and perspec-
tive early-rising are the chief features of the night and
morning. JI laid down my buffalo robe with more care
than usual, and got into my sack of deer-skius with a
notion that the night was going to be one of unusual seve-
rity. My sack of deer-skins—so far it has been scareely
mentioned in this journal, and yet it played no insignificant
part in the nightly programme. Its origin and construc-
tion were simply these. Before leaving Red River I had
received from a gentleman, well known in the Hudson Bay
Company, some most useful suggestions as to winter travel.
His residence of many years in the coldest parts of Labrador,
and his long journcy into the interior of that most wild and
sterile land, had made him acquainted with all the vicissitudes
of northern travel. Under his direction I had procured a
number of the skins of the common cabri, or small deer,
had them made into a large sack of some seven fect in

300 THE GREAT LUNE LAND.

length and three in diameter. The skin of this deer is very
light, but possesses, forsome reason with which I am unac-
_ quainted, a power of giving great warmth to the person it
covers. The sack was made with the hair turned inside,
and was covered on the outside with canvass. To makemy
bed, therefore, became a very simple operation : lay down a
buffalo robe, unroll the sack, and the thing was done. To
get into bed was simply to get into the sack, pull the hood
over one’s head, and go to sleep. Remeniber, there was no
tent, no outer covering of any kind, nothing but the trees
—sometimes not many of them—the clouds, or the stars.

During the journey with horses I had generally found
the bag too warm, and had for the most part slept on it,
not in it; but nowits time was about to begin, and this
night in the pine-bluff was to record a signal triumph for
the sack principle applied to shake-downs.

About three o’clock in the morning the men got up,
unable to sleep on account of the cold, and set the fire
going. The noise soon awoke me, but I lay quict inside
the bag, knowing what was going on outside. Now,
amongst its other advantages, the sack possessed one of no
small value. It enabled me to tell at once on awaking what
the cold was doing outside; if it was cold in the sack, or if
the hood was fastened down by frozen breath to the open-
ing, then it must be a howler outside; then it was time
to get ready the greasiest breakfast and put on the thickest
duffel-socks and mittens. On the morning of the 22nd
all these symptoms were manifest; the bag wa: not warm,
the hood was frozen fast against the opening, and one or
two smooth-haired dogs were shivering close beside my feet
and ontop of the bag. Tearing asunder the frozen mouth of
the sack, I got out into the open. Beyond a doubt it was
cold; I don’t mean cold in the ordinary manner, cold such

‘Wk GREAT LONE LAND. 301

as you can localize to your feet, or your fingers, or your
nose, but cold all over, crushing cold. Putting on coat and
moceassins as close to the fire as possible, I ran to the tree on
which I had hung the thermometer on the previons evening ;
it stood at 37° below zero at 3.30 in the morning. I had
slept well; the eabri sack was a very Ajax among roosts ;
it defied the elements. Having eaten a tolerably fat break-
fast and swallowed a good many enps of hot tea, we packed
the sleds, harnessed the dogs, and gut away from the pine
bluff two hours before daybreak. Oh, how biting cold it
was! On in the grey snow light with a terrible wind
sweeping up the long reaches of the river; nothing spoken,
for such cold makes men silent, morose, and savage. After
four hours’ travelling, we stopped to dine. It was only 9.30,
but we had breakfasted six hours before. We were some
time before we could make fire, but at length it was set
going, and we piled the dry driftwood fast upon the flames.
Then I sct up my thermometer again; it registered 39°
below zero, 71° of frost. What it must have been at day-
break I cannot say; but it was sensibly colder than at ten
o’clock, and I do not doubt must have been 45° below zero-
I had never been exposed to any thing like this cold before.
Set full in the sun at eleven o’clock, the thermometer rose
only to 26° below zero, the sun scemed to have lost all power
of warmth ; it was very low in the heavens, the day being
the shortest in the year; in fact, in the centre of the river
the sun did not show above the steep south bank, while the
wind had full sweep from the north-east. This portion of
the Saskatchewan is the farthest north reached by the
river in its entire course. It here runs for some distance a
little north of the 54th parallel of north latitude, and its
elevation above the sea is about 1800 feet. During the
whole day we journeyed on, the wind still kept dead against

302 MLE GREAT LONE LAND.

us, and at times it was impossible to face its terrible keen-
ness. The dogs began to tire out; the ice eut their feet,
and the white surface was often speckled with the crimson
icieles that fel] from their wounded toes. Out of the twelve
dogs composing my eavaleade, it would have been impossi-
ble to select four good ones. Coffee, Téte Noir, Michinass,
and another whose name I forget, underwent repeated
whalings at the hands of my driver, a half-breed from
Edmonton named Frazer. Early in the afternoon the
head of Téte Noir was reduced to shapeless pulp from
tremendous thrashings. Michinass, or the “ Spotted One,”
had one eye wherewith to watch the dreaded driver, and
Coffee had devoted so much strength to wild Jurches and
sudden springs in order to dodge the descending whip, that he
had none whatever to bestow upon his legitimate toil of haul-
ing me. Atlength, so useless did he become, that he had to
be taken out altogether from the harness and left to his fate
on the river. “And this,” I said to myself, “is dog-driving ;
this inhuman thrashing and varied cursing, this frantic
howling of dogs, this bitter, terrible cold is the long-talked-
of mode of winter travel!” To say that I was disgusted and
stunned by the prospect of such work for hundreds of miles
would be only to speak a portion of what I felt. Was the
cold always to be so crushing? were the dogs always to be
the same wretched creatures? Fortunately, no; but it was
only when I reached Victoria that night, lone after dark,
that I learned that the day had been very exceptionally
severe, and that my dogs were unusually miserable ones.
As at Edmonton so in the fort at Victoria the small-pox
had again broken out; in spite of cold and frost the infee-
tion still lurked in many places, and in none more fatally
than in this little settlement where, during the autumn,
it had wrought so much havoc among the scanty com-

THE GREAT LONE LAND. 303

munity. In this distant settlement I spent the few days
of Christmas; the weather had become suddenly milder,
although the thermometer still stood below zero.
Small-pox had not been the only evil from which
Victoria had suffered during the year which was about
to elose; the Sircies had made many raids upon it during
the summer, stealing down the sheltering banks of a
small creek which entered the Saskatchewan at the oppo-
site side, and then swimming the broad river during the
night and lying hidden at day in the high corn-fields
of the mission, Incredible though it may appear, they
continued this practice at a time when they were being
swept away by the small-pox; their bodies were found in
one instance dead upon the bank of the river they had
crossed by swimming when the fever of the disease had been
at its height. Those who live their lives quietly at home,
who sleep in beds, and lay up when sickness comes upon
them, know but little of what the human frame is capable
of enduring if put to the test. With us, to be ill is to lie
down ; not so with the Indian ; heis never il with the easual
illnesses of our civilization: when he lies down itis to sleep
for a few hours, or—for ever. Thus these Sircies had literally
kept the war-trail till they died. When the corn-tields
were being cnt around the mission, the reapers found
unmistakable traces of how these wild men had kept the
field undaunted by disease. Long black hair was found
where it had fallen from the head of some brave in the lairs
from which he had watched the horses of his enemies; the
ruling passion had been strong in death. In the end, the
much-coveted horses were carried off by the few survivors,
and the mission had to bewail the loss of some of its hest
steeds. One, a niare belonging to the missionary himself,
had returned to her home after an absence of a few days,

304 TIE GREAT LONE LAND.

but she carried in her flank a couple of Sircie arrows. She
had broken away from the band, and the braves had sent
their arrows after her in an attempt to kill what they
could not keep. To add to the misfortunes of the scttle-
ment, the buffalo were far out in the great plains; so be-
taween disease, war, and famine, Victoria had had a hard
time of it.

In the farmyard of the mission-house there lay a curious
block of metal of immense weight; it was rugged, deeply
indented, and polished on the outer edges of the indenta-
tions by the wear and friction of many years. Its history
wasa curious one. Longer than any man could say, it had
Tain on the summit of a hill far out in the southern prairies.
It had been a medicine-stone of surpassing virtue among
the Indians over a vast territory. No tribe or portion of a
tribe would pass in the vicinity without paying a visit to
this great medicine: it was said to be mereasing yearly in
weight. Old men remembered having heard old men say
that they had once lifted it easily from the ground. Now,
no single man could carry it. And it was no wonder that
this metallic stone should ‘be a Manito-stone and an object
of intense veneration to the Indian; it had come down from -
heaven ; it did not belong to the earth, but had descended out
ofthe sky ; it was, in fact,an aerolite. Not very long before
my visit this curious stone had been removed from the hill
upon which it had so long rested and brought to the
Mission of Victoria by some person from that place. When
the Indians found that it had been taken away, they were
Joud in the expression of their regret. The old medicine-
men. declared that its removal would lead to great misfor-
tunes, and that war, disease, and dearth of buffalo would
afflict the tribes of the Saskatchewan. This was not a
prophecy made after the occurrence of the plague of small-

THE GREAT LONE LAND. 205

pox, for Ina magazine published by the Wesleyan Society
in Canada there appearsa letter from the missionary, setting
forth the predictions of the medicine-men a year prior to
my visit. The letter concludes with an expression of thanks
that their evil prognostications had not been attended with
suecess. But a few months later brought all the three evils
upon the Indians ; and never, probably, sinee the first trader
had reached the country bad so many afflictions of war,
famine, and plague fallen upon the Crees and the Blackfeet
as during the year which suceceded the useless removal of
their Manito-stone from the lone hill-top upon which the
skies had cast it. .

I-spent the evening of Christmas Day in the house of the
missionary. Two of his daughters sang very sweetly to the
music of a small melodian. Both song and strain were sad
—sadder, perhaps, than the words or music could make
them; for the recollection of the two absent ones, whose
newly-made graves, covered with their first snow, lay close
outside, mingled with the hymn and deepened the melan-
~ choly of the music.

On the day after Christmas Day I left Victoria, with
three trains of dogs, bound for Fort Pitt. This time the
drivers were all English half-breeds, and that tongue was
chielly used to accelerate the dogs. The temperature had
risen considerably, and the snow was soft and clammy,
making the “ hauling” heavy upon the dogs. For my own
use I had a very excellent train, but the other two were of
the uscles class. -As before, the beatings were incessant,
and I witnessed the first example of a very commion occur-
rence in dog-driving—I beheld the operation known as
“sending a dog to Rume.” This consists simply of striking
him over the head with a large stick until he falls perfectly

senseless to the ground; after a litle he revives, and, with
x

306 THE GREAT LONE LAND.

memory of the awful blows that took his consciousness
away full upon him, he pulls franticly at his load. Often-
times a dog is “sent to Rome” hecanse he will not allow
the driver to arrange some hitch in the harness ; then, while
he is insenstble, the necessary alteration is carried out, and
when the dog recovers he receives a terrible lash of the whip
to set him going again. The half-breeds are a race easily
offended, prone to sulk if reproved; but at the risk of
causing delay and inconvenience I had to interfere with a
peremptory order that “sending to Rome” should be at
once discontinued Im my trains. The wretched “ Whisky,”
alter his voyage to the Eternal City, appeared quite over-
come with what he had there seen, and continued to stagger
along the trail, making feeble efforts to keep straight. This
tendency to wobble caused the half&breeds to indulge m
funny remarks, one of them calling the track a “ drunken
trail.” Finally, “ Whisky” was abandoned to his fate.
T bad never been a believer in the pluck and courage of the
men who are fhe descendants of mixed European and
Indian parents. Admirable as guides, unequalled as
royagenrs, trappers, and hunters, they nevertheless are
wanting in those qualities which give courage or true
manhood. Tell me your friends and I will tell you what
you are” is a sound proverb, and in no sense more true than
when the bounds of man’s friendships are stretched wide
enough to admit those dumb companions, the horse and the
dog. Inever knew a man yet, or forthat matter a woman,
worth much who did not like dogs and horses, and I would
always feel inclined to suspect a man who was shunned by
adog. The eruclty so systematically practised upon dogs by
their half-breed drivers is utterly unwarrantable. In winter
the poor brutes become more than ever the benefactors of
man, uniting in themselves all the services of horse and

TUE CREAT LONE LAND. 307

dog—by day they work, by night they watch, and the man
must be a very eur in nature who would inflict, at such a
time, needless cruelty upon the animal that renders him so
much assistance.

On this day, the 25th December, we made a night march
in the hope of reaching Fort Pitt. For four hours we
walked on through the dark until the trail led us suddenly
into the midst of an immense band of animals, which eom-
menced to dash around us in a high state of alarm. At
first we fancied in the indistinet moonlight that they were
baffle, but another instant sufficed to prove them horses.
We had, in fact, struck into the middle of the Fort Pitt
band of horses, numbering some ninety or a hundred head.
We were, however, still a long way from the fort, and as
the trail was utterly lost im the confused medley of tracks
all round us, we were compelled to halt for the night near
midnight. In a small clump of willows we made a hasty
camp and Jay down to sleep. Daylight next morning
showed that conspicuous Jandmark called the Frenchman’s
Knoll rising north-cast ; and lying in the snow close beside
us was poor “ Whisky’" He had followed on during the
night from the place where he had been abandoned on the
previons day, and had come up again with his persecutors
while they Jay asleep ; for, after all, there was one fate worse
than being “sent to Rome,” and that was being left to
starve. After a few hours’ ran we reached Fort Pitt, having
travelled about 150 miles in three days and a half.

Fort Pitt was destitute of fresh dogs or drivers, and conse-
quently 2 delay of some days became necessary Lefore my
onward journey could be resumed. Jn the absence of Cogs a: d
drivers Fort Pitt, however, offered small-pox to its visitors.
‘A case had broken out a few days previous to my arrival
impossible to trace in any way, but probably the result of

308 TIE GREAT LONE LAND.

some infection conveyed into the fort during the terrible
visitation of the autumn. TI have already spoken of the
power which the Indian possesses of continuing the ordinary
avocations of his life im the presence of disease. This power
he also possesses under that most terrible afiliction—the
Joss of sight. Bludness is by no means an uncommon
occurrence among the tribes of the Saskatchewan. The
Hlinding glare of the snow-covered plains, the sand in
summer, and, above all, the dense smoke of the tents, where
the lire of wood, lighted in the centre, fills the whole lodge
with a smoke which is peeuliarly trying to the sight—all
these causes render ophthalmic affections among the Indians
a common misfortune. Here is the story of a blind Cree
who arrived at Fort Pitt one day weak with starvation :—~
From a distant camp he had started five days before, in
company with his wife. They had some skins to trade, so
they leaded their dug and set out on the march——the woman
led the way, the blind man followed next, and the dog
bronght up the rear. Soon they approached a plain upon
which buffalo were feeding. The dog, secing the buffalo,
left the trail, and, carrying the furs with him, gave chase.
Away out of sight he went, until there was nothing for it but
to set out in pursuit of him. Telling her husband to wait in
this spot until she returned, the woman now started after the
dog. Time passed, it was growing late, and the wiad swept
coldly over the suow. The blind man began to grow un~
easy 3 “ She has lost her way,” he said to himself ; “I will go
on, and we may ineet.””, He walked on—he called aload, but
there was no answer; go back he could not; he knew by the
coldness of the air that night had fillen on the plain, but
day and night were alike to him. He was alone—he was
lost. Suddenly he felt against his feet the rustle of long
sedgy grass—he stooped down and found that he had

TIE GREAT LONE LAND. 309

reached the margin of a frozen Inke. Te was tired, and it
was time to rest; so with his knife he eut a quantity of
Img dry grass, and, making a bed for himself on the
margin of the lake, lay down and slept. Let us go back
to the woman. The dog had led her a long chase, and it
was very Jute when she got back to the spot where she had
left her husband—he was gone, but his tracks in the snow
were visible, and she hurried after him. Suddenly the
wind arose, the light powdery snow began to deift in clouds
over the surface of the plain, the track was speedily obli-
terated and might was coming on. Still she followed the
general direction of the footprints, and at last came to the
border of the same lake by which her husband was lying
asleep, but it was at some distance from the spot. She too
was tired, and, making a fire in a thicket, she lay down
to sleep. About the middle of the night the man awoke
and set out again on his solitary way. It snowed all night
—the morning came, the day passed, the night closed
agnin—again the morning dawned, and. still he wandered
on. For three days he travelled thus over an immense
plain, without food, and having only the snow wherewith to
quench his thirst. On the third day he -walked into a
thicket; he felt around, and found that the timber was dry;
with his axe he eut down some wood, then struck a light
and made a fire. When the fire was alight he laid his gan
down beside it, and went to gather more wood ; but fate was
heavy against him, he was unable to find the fire which he
had lighted, and by which he had left his gun. He made
another fire, and again the same result. “A third time he
set to work; and now, to make certain of his getting back:
again, he tied a line to a tree close beside his fire, and then
set out to gather wood. Again the fates smote him—his
line broke, and he had to grope his way in weary search,

310 THE GREAT LONE LAND.

But chance, tired of ill-treating him so long, now stood his
friend—he found the first fire, and with it his gun and
Dlanket. Again he travelled on, but now his strength
began to fail, and for the first time his heart sank within
him—blind, starving, and utterly lost, there seemed no
hope on earth for him, “ Then,” he said, “I thought of
the Great Spirit of whom the white men speak, and I
called aloud to him, ‘O Great Spirit! have pity on me, and
show me the path? and asI said it I heard close by the
calling of a crow, and I knew that the road was not fir off.
I followed the eall; soon I felt the erusted snow of a path
under my feet, and the next day reached the fort” Ile
had been five days withont food.

No man ean starve better than the Indian—no man
cam feast better either. For Jong days and nights he
will go without sustenance of any kind; but see him
when the buffalo are near, when the cows are fut; see
him then if you want to know what quantity of food
it is possible for a man to consume at a sitting. Here
3s one bill of fare:—Seven men in thirteen days con-
sumed two buffalo bulls, seven cabri, 40 Ibs. of pemmi-
can, and a great many ducks and geese, and on the
last day there was nothing to eat. Iam perfectly aware
that this enormous quantity could not have weighed less
than 1600 Ibs. at the very lowest estimate, which would
givea daily ration to each man of 1S Ibs. ; but, ineredible as
this may appear, it is by no means impossible. During the
entire time I remained at Fort Pitt the daily ration issued
to each man was 10 Ibs. of beef. Beef is so much richer
and coarser food than buffalo meat, that 10Jbs. of the
former wonld be equivalent to 15lbs. or 16 Ibs. of the latter,
und yet every serap of that 10 Ibs. was eaten by the man
whe received it. The women got 5Ibs., and the children,

THE GREAT LONE LAND. 311

no matter how small, 3lbs. each. Fancy a child in arms
geitng 3Ibs. of beef for its daily sustenance! The old
Orkney men of the Hudson Bay Company servants must
have seen in such a ration the realization of the poet’s lines,
*O Caledonia, stern and wild!
Meué nurse for a poetic child,” &e.
All these people at Fort Pitt were idle, and. therefore
were not capable of eating as much as if they had been
on the plains.

The wild hills that surround Fort Pitt are frequently
the scenes of Indian ambush and attack, and on more
than one occasion the fort itself has been captured by
the Blackfeet. The region in which Fort Pitt stands
is a favourite camping-ground of the Crees, and the
Blackfeet cannot be persuaded that the people of the
fort are not the active friends and allies of their enemies—
in fact, Fort Pitt and Carlton are looked upon by them as
places belonging to another company altogether from the
one which rules at the Mountain House and at Edmonton.
“Tf it was the same company,” they say, “how could they
give our enemies, the Crees, guns and powder; for do they
not give us guns and powder too?” This mode of argu-
ment, which refuses to recognize that species of neutrality
so dear to the English heart, is eminently caleulated to lay
Fort Pitt open to Blackfeet raid. Itis only a few years since
the place was plundered by a large band, but the general
forbearance displayed by the Indians on that occasion is
nevertheless remarkable. Here is the story :—

One morning the people in the fort beheld a small
party of Blackfeet on a high hill at the opposite side
of the Saskatchewan. The usual flag carried by the
chief was waved to denote a wish to trade, and accord-
ingly the officer in charge pushed off in his boat to

312 TUE GREAT LONE LAND.

meet and hoid converse with the party. When he reached
the other side he found the chief and a few men drawn
np to receive him.

* Are there Crees around the fort?” asked the chief.

No,” replied the trader; “there are none with us.”

“You speak with a forked tongue,’ answered the
Blackfoot, dividing: his fingers as he spoke to indicate that
the other was speaking falsely.

Just at that moment something caught the trader’s eve in
the bushes along the river bank; he looked again and saw,
close alongside, the willows swarming with naked Blackfeet.
He made one spring back into his boat, and called to his men
to shove off ; but it was too lite. In an instant two hundred
braves rose out of the grass and willows and rushed into the
water; they caught the boat and brought her back to the
shore; then, filling her as full as she would hold with men,
they pushed off for the other side. ‘Lo put as good a face
upon matters as possille, the trader commenced a trade, and
at first the batch that had crossed, about forty in number,
kept quiet enough, but some of their number took the boat
hack again to the sonth shore and brought over the entire
band; then the wild work commenced, bolts and bars were
broken open, the trading-shop was quickly cleared out; and
in the highest spirits, laughing loudly at the glorious fun
they were having, the braves commenced to enter the
houses, ripping up the feather beds to look for guns and -

suing down calico curtains for finery. The men of the
fort were nearly all away in the plains, and the women and
children were in a high state of alarm. Sometimes the
Indians would point their guns at the women, then drag
them off the beds on which they were sitting and rip open
hiedding and mattress, looking for concealed weapons; but
no further violence was attempted, and the whole thing was

TYE GREAT LONE LAND. 313

accompanied by such peals of Inughter that it was evident
the braves had not enjoyed such a “high old time” for a
very lone period. At last the chief, thinking, perhaps,
that things had gone quite far enough, called ont, in a loud
voice, “ Crees! Crees!” and, dashing cut of the fort, was
quickly followed by the whole band.

Still in high good humour, the braves recrossed the river,
and, turning round on the farther shore, fired a volley to-
wards the fort; but as the distanee was at least 500 yards,
this parting salute was simply as a bravado. This band
was evidently bent on mischief. As they retreated south to
their own country they met the carts belonging to the fort
on their way from the plains; the men in charge ran off
with the fleetest horses, but the carts were all captured and
ransacked, and an old Scotchman, a servant of the Company,
who stood his ground, was reduced to a state bordering upon
nudity by the frequent demands of his captors.

The Blackfeet chiefs exercise great authority over their
braves; someof themare men of considerable natural abilities,
and all must be brave and celebrated in battle. To disobey
the mandate of a chief is at times to court instant death at his
hands. Atthe present time the two most formidable chiets
of the Blackfeet nations are Sapoo-max-sikes, or “The Great
Crow’s Claw ;” and Oma-ka-pee-mulkee-yeu, or “ The Great
Swan.” These men are widely different in their characters ;
the Crow’s Claw being a man whose word once given can
be relied on to the death ; but the other is represented as a
man of colossal size and savage disposition, crafty and
treacherous.

During the year just past death had struck heavily
among the Blackfeet chiefs. The death of one of their
greatest men, Pe-na-koam, or “ The Far-off Dawn,” was
worthy of a great brave. When he felt that his last night

314 THE GREAT LONE LAND.

had eome, he ordered his best horse to be brought to the
door of the tent, and mounting him he rode slowly around
the camp; at each corner he halted and called out, in a loud
voice to his people, “ The lust hour of Pe-na-koam has
come; but to his people he says, Be brave ; separate inty
small parties, so that this disease will have less power to kill
you; be strong to fight our enemies the Crees, and be able
to destroy them. It is no matter now that this disease has
come upon us, for our enemies have got it too, and they will
also die of it. Pe-na-koam tells his people before he dies to
live so that they may fight their enemies, and be strong.” It
is said that, having spoken thus, he died quietly. Upon the
top of a lonely bill they laid the body of their chief beneath
a tent hung round with scarlet cloth; beside him they put
six revolvers and two American repeating rifles, and at the
door of his tent twelve horses were slain, so that their
spirits would carry him in the green prairies of the happy
hunting-grounds; four hundred blankets were piled around
as offerings to his memory, and then the tribe moved away
from the spot, leaving the tomb of their dead king to the
winds and to the wolves,

TIL GREAT LONE LAND. 315

CUAPTER XN.

Tur Berravo—Is Loree axp ravorrtre Grovxps—Mones ov
ilestixe—A Fient—s<axevirasre Exp—I pecome a Meni-
cive-sax—Grear Cutp—Carutos—-Fauty Resrossisi.ities.

Wuewx the early Spanish adventurers penetrated from the
sex-lourd of America into the great central prairie region,
they beheld for the first time a strange animal whose
countless numbers covered the face of the country. When
De Soto had been buried in the dark waters of the Missis-
sippi, the remnant of his band, pursuing their western way,
entered the “Country of the Wild Cows.” When in the
same year explorers pushed their way northward from
Mexico into the region of the Rio-del-Norte, they looked
over immense plains black with moving beasts. Nearly
100 years later settlers on the coasts of New England heard
from westward-hailing Indians of huge beasts on the shores
of a great Jake not many days’ journey to the north-west.
Naturalists in Europe, hearing of the new animal, named
it the bison; but the colonists united im calling it the
buffalo, and, as is usual in such cases, although science
clearly demonstrated that it was a bison, and was not a
buffalo, scientific knowledge had not a chance against
practical ignorance, and “ buffalo” carried the day. The true
home of this animal lay in the great prairie region between
the Rocky Mountains, the Mississippi, the Texan forest,
and the Saskatchewan River, and although undoubted
evidence exists to show that at some period the buffalo

316 THE GREAT LONE LAND.

reached in his vast migrations the shores of the Pacifie and
the Atlantic, yet. since the party of De Soto only entered
_the Country of the Wild Cows after they had crossed the
Mississippi, it may fairly be inferred that the Ohio River and
the lower Mississippi formed the eastern boundaries to the
wanderings of the herds since the New World has beenknown
to the white man. Still even within this immense region, a
region not less than 1,000,000 of square miles in arex, the
havoe worked by the European has been terrible. Faster
even than the decay of the Indian has gone on the destrue-
tion of the bison, and only a few years must elapse before
this noble beast, hunted down in the Inst recesses of his
breeding-grounds, will have taken his place in the long list
of those extinct giants which once dwelt in our world.
Many favourite spots had this huge animal throughout
the great domain over which he roamed—many beautiful
scenes where, along river meadows, the grass in winter was
still sueculent and the wooded “bays” gave food and
shelter, but no more favourite ground than this valley of
the Saskatchewan; thither he wended his way from the
bleak plains of the Missouri in herds that passed and
passed for days and nights in seemingly never-ending
numbers. Along the countless erecks and rivers that add
their tribute to the great stream, along the banks of the
Battle River and the Vermilion River, along the many White
Earth Rivers and Sturgeon Creeks of the upper and middle
Saskatchewan, down through the willow copses and aspen
thickets of the Touchwood Hills and the Assineboine, the
great beasts dwelt in all the happiness of calf-rearing and
connubial felicity. The Indians who then occupied these
regions killed only what was required for the supply of the
camps—a mere speck in the dense herds that roamed up to
the very doors of the wigwams; but when the trader

THE GREAT LONE LAND. 317

pushed his adventurous way into the fur regions of the
North, the herds of the Saskatchewan plains began to ex-
perience a change in their surroundings. The meat, pounded
down and mixed with fat into “pemmican,” was found to
supply a most excellent food for transport service, and
accordingly vast numbers of buffalo were destroyed to
supply the demand. of the fur traders. In the border-land
between the wooded country and the plains, the Crees, net
satisfiel with the ordinary methods of destroying the
buffalo, devised a plan by which great multitudes could be
easily annihilated. This method of hunting consists im
the erection of strong wooden enclosures called pounds, into
which the buffalo are guided by the supposed magie power of
amedicine-man. Sometimes for two days the medicine-man
will live with the herd, which he half guides and half drives
into the enclosures; sometimes he is on the right, some-
times on the left, and sometimes, again, in rear of the herd,
but never to windward of them. At last they approach
the pound, which is usually conccaled im a thicket of
wood. Fur many miles from the entrance to this pound
two gradually diverging lines of tree-stumps and heaps
of snow lead out into the plains. Within these lines
the buffalo are led by the medicine-man, and as the lines
narrow towards the entrance, the herd, finding itself hemmed.
in on both sides, becomes more and more alarmed, until at
length the great beasts plunge on imto the pound itself,
across the mouth of which ropes are quickly thrown and
barriers raised. Then commences the slaughter. Fron
the wooded fence around arrows and bullets are ponred
into the dense plunging mass of buffalo careering wildly
round the ring. Abvays going in one direction, with
the sun, the poor beasts race on until not a living thing
is left; then, when there is nothing more to kill, the

318 THE GREAT LONE LAND.

eutting-up conmences, and pemmican-making goes on
space.

Widely different 4% this indiscriminate slaughter is
the fair hunt on heorseiack in the great open plains.
The approach, the eautious survey over some hill-top,
the wild charge on the herd, the headlong flight, the
turn to bay, the flight and fall—all this contains a large
share of that excitement which we call by the much-
abused term sport. It is possible, however, that many
of those who delight in killing placid pheasants and stoical
partridges might enjoy the huge éaftue of an Indian
“pound” in preference to the wild charge over the sky-
bound prairie, but, for my part, not being of the privileged
few who breed pheasants at the expense of peasants (what 2
difference the “h” makesin Malthusian theories !}, I have
been compelled to seek my sport in hot climates instead of
in hot corners, and in the sandy blaffs of Nebraska and the
Missouri have drawn.many an hour of keen enjoyment
from the long chase of the buffalo: One evening, shortly
before sunset, I was stecring my way through the sandy
hills of the Platte Valley, in the State of Nebraska, slowly
towards Fort Kearney; both horse and rider were tired
alter a long day over sand-bluff and meadow-land, for buf-
falo were plenty, and five tongues dangling to the saddle
told that horse, man, and rifle had not been idle. Cross-
ing a grassy ridge, I suddenly came in sight of three buf-
falo just emerging from the broken bluff. Tired as was
my horse, the sight of one of these three animals urged me

to one last chase. He was a very large bull, whose black
shaggy mane and dewlaps nearly brushed the short prairie
grass beneath him. I dismounted behind the hill,
tightened the saddle-girths, looked to rifle and eartridge-
pouch, und then remuunting rode slowly over the inter-

THE GREAT LONE LAND. 319

vening ridge. As I came in view of the three beasts thus
majestically stalking their way towards the Platte for the
luxury of an evening drink, the three shaggy heads were
thrown up—one steady lock given, then round went the
animals and away for the bluffs again. With a whoop and
a cheer I gave chase, and the mustang, answering gamely
to my call, launched himself well over the prairie. Singling
out the large bull, I urged the horse with spur and veice,
then rising in the stirrups I took a snap-shot at my quarry.
The bullet struck him in the flanks, and quick as lightning
he wheeled down upon me. It was now my turn to run. I
had urged the horse with voice and spur to close with the
buffalo, but still more vigorously did I endeavour, under
the altered position of alfnirs, to make him inerease the dis-
tance lying between us. Down the sandy incline thundered
the huge beast, gaining on us at every stride. Looking
back over my shoulder, I saw him close to my horse’s tail,
with head lowered and eyes flashing furiously under their
shaggy covering. The horse was tired; the buffalo was
fresh, and it seemed as though another instant must bring
pursuer and pursued into wild collision. Throwing back
my rifle over the erupper, I laid it at arm’s length, with
muzzle fall upon the buffalo’s head. The shot struck the
centre of his forehead, but he only shook his head when he
received it; still it seemed to check his pace a little, and as _
we had now reached level ground the horse began to gain
something upon his pursuer. Quite as suddenly as he had
charged the bull now changed his tactics. Whecling off he
followed his companions, who by this time had vanished
into the bluffs. It never would have done-to lose him after
such a fight, so I brought the mustang round again, and
gave chase. This time a shot fired low behind the shoulder
brought my fierce friend to hay. Proudly he turned upon

320 THE GREAT LONE LAND.

me, but now his rage was calm and stately, he pawed the
ground, and blew with short angry snorts the sand in clouds
from the plain; moving thus slowly towards me, he looked
the incarnation of strength and angry pride. But his doom
was sealed. I remember so vividlyall the wild surroundings of
the scene—the great silent waste, the two buffalo watching
from a hill-top the fight of their leader, the noble beast
himself stricken but defiant, and beyond, the thousand glories
of the prairie sunset. It was only to last an instant, for the
giant bull, still with low-bent head and angry snorts, ad-
vancing slowly towards his puny enemy, sank quietly to the
plain and stretched his limbs in death. Late that night I
reached the American fort with six tongues hanging to my
saddle, but never since thet hour, though often but a two
days’ ride from buffalo, have I sought to take the life of one
of these noble animals. To soon will the last of them have
vanished from the great centra] prairie land ; never again will
those countless herds roam from the Platte to the Missouri,
from the Missouri to the Saskatchewan; chased for his
robe, for his beef, for sport, for the very pastime of his
death, he is rapidly vanishing from the land. Far in the
northern forests of the Athabasea a few butfaloes may for
a time bid defiance to man, but they, too, must disappear
and nothing be left of this giant beast save the bones that
for many an age will whiten the prairies over which the
great herds roamed at will in times before the white man
came. .

It was the 5th of January befure'the return of the degs
from an Indian trade enabled me to get away from Fors
Pitt. During the days I had remained in the fort the
snow covering had deepened on the plains and winter had
got a still firmer grasp upen the river and meadow. In two
days’ travel we ran the length of the river between Fort

THE GREAT LONE LAND. 321

Pitt and Battle River, travelling rapidly over the ice down
the centre of the stream. The dogs were gond ones, the
drivers well versed in their work, and although the thermo-
meter stood at 20° below zero on the evening of the 6th, the
whole run tended in no small degree to improve the general
opinion which I had previously formed upon the delights of
dog-travel. Arrived at Battle River, I found that the Crees
had disappeared since my former visit; the place was now
tenanted only by a few Indians and half-breeds. It seemed
to be my fate to encounter cases of sickness at every post
on my return journey. Here a woman was lying ina state
of complete unconsciousness with intervals of convulsion
and spitting of blood. It was in vain that I represented
my total inability to deal with such a case. The friends of
the lady all dectared that it was necessary that I should sce
her, and accordingly I was introduced into the miserable
hut in which she lay. She was stretched upon a low bed in
one corner of a room about seven feet square; the roof ap-
proached so near the ground that I was unable to stand
straight in any part of the place; the rough floor was
crowded with women squatted thickly upon it, and a huge
fire blazed in a corner, making the heat something terrible.
Having gonethroughthcordinary medical programmeof pulse
feeling, I put some general questions to the surrounding bevy
of women which, being duly interpreted into Cree, clicited
the fact that the sick woman had been engaged in carrying a
very heavy load of wood on her back for the use of her lord
and master, and that while she had been thus employed she
was scized with convulsions and became senseless. “ What
is it?” said the Hudson Bay man, looking at me in a
manner which seemed to indicate complete confidence in my
professional sagacity. “Do you think it’s small-pox?”
Some acquaintance with this disease enabled me to state
¥

322 THE GREAT LONE LAND.

my deliberate conviction that it was not small-pox, but as
to what particular form of the many “ ills that flesh is heir
to” it really was, I could not for the life of me determine.
Thad not even that clue which the Yankee practitioner is
said to have established for his guidance in the case of his
infant patient, whose puzzling ailment he endeavoured to
diagnosticate by administering what he termed “a con-
vulsion powder,” being “a whale at the treatment of con-

yvulsions.”?

In the case now before me convulsions were
unfortunately of frequent occurrence, and I could not Jay
claim to the high powers of pathology which the Yankee
had asserted himself to be the possessor of. Under all the
circumstances I judged it expedient to forego any direct
opinion upon the case, and te administer a compound quite
as innocuous in its nature as the “soothing syrup” of
infantile notoriety. It was, however, a gratifying fact to
Icarn next morning that—whether owing to the syrup or not,
Tam not prepared to state—the patient had shown decided
symptoms of rallying, and I took my departure from Battle
River with the reputation of being a “medicine-man” of
the very first order.

I now began to experience the full teil and labour
of a winter journey. Our course lay across a bare, open
region on which for distances of thirty to forty miles not
one tree or bush was visible; the cold was very great,
and the snow, lying loosely as it had fallen, was so soft
that the dogs sank through the drifts as they pulled slowly
at their loads. On the evening of the 10th January
we reached a little clump of poplars on the edge of a large
plain on which no tree was visible. It was piercingly
cold, a bitter wind swept across the snow, making us glad
to find even this poor shelter against the coming night.
Two hours after dark the thermometer stood at minus 388°,

TNE GREAT LONE LAND. 323

or 70° of frost. The wood was small and poor; the wind
howled through the scanty thicket, driving the smoke into
our eyes as we cowered over the fire. Oh, what misery it
was! and how blank seemed the prospect before me! 900
miles still to travel, and to-day I had only made about
twenty miles, toiling from dawn to dark through Dlinding
- drift and intenseculd. On again next morning over the track-
less plain, thermometer at -—-20° in morning, and —)2°
at midday, with high wind, snow, and heavy drift. One of
my men, a half-breed in name, an Indian in reality, became
utterly done up frei! gvid and exposure—the others would
have left him belts te make his own way through the
snow, or most likey 2¢4ie down and die, but I stopped the
dogs until he-came up, and then let him lie on one of the
sleds for the remainder of the day. He was a miscrable-
looking wretch, but he ate enormous quantities of pemmican
at every meal. After four days of very arduons travel we
reached Carlton at sunset on the 12th January. The ther-
mometer had kept varying between 20° and 38° below zero
every night, but on the night of the 12th surpassed any thing
I had yet experienced. I spent that night m a room at
‘Carlton, a room in which a fire had been burning until
midnight, nevertheless at daybreak on the 13th the ther-
mometer showed —20° on the table close to my bed. At
half-past ten o’clock, when placed outside, facing north, it fell
to —44°, and I afterwards ascertained that an instrument
kept at the mission of Prince Albert, 60 miles cast from
Carlton, showed the enormous amount of 51° below zero at
daybreak that morning, $3° of frost. This was the coldest
night during the winter, but it was clear, calm, and fine.
I now determined to leave the usual winter route from
Carlton to Red River, and to strike out a new line of travel,
which, though very much longer than the trail via Fort
y2

32+ THE GREAT LONE LAND.

Pelly, had several advantages to recommend it to my
choice. In the first place, it promised a new line of country
down the great valley of the Saskatchewan River to its
expansion into the sheet of water called Cedar Lake, and
from thenee across the dividing ridge into the Lake
Winnipegoosis, down the length of that water and its
southern neighbour, the Lake Manitoba, until the boundary
of the new province would be again reached, fully 700 miles
from Carlton. It was a long, cold travel, but it promised
the novelty of tracing to its delta in the vast marshes of
Cumberland and the Pasquia, the great river whose foaming
torrent I had forded at the Rocky Mountains, and whose
middle course I had followed for more than a month of
wintry travel. ;

Great as were the hardships and privations of this
winter journey, it had nevertheless many moments of
keen pleasure, moments filled with those instinets of that
long-ago time before our civilization and its servitude had
commenced—that time when, like the Arab and the
Indian, we were ull rovers over the earth; as a dog on a
drawing-room carpet twists himself round and round before
he lies down to sleep—the instinct bred in him in that
time when his ancestors thus trampled smooth their beds in
the long grasses of the primeval prairies—so man, in the
midst of his civilization, instinctively goes back to some
half-hidden reminiscence of the forest and the wilderness
in which his savage forefathers dwelt. My lord secks his
highland moor, Norwegian salmon river, or more homely
coverside; the retired grocer, in his snug retreat at Toot-
ing, builds himself an arbour of rocks and mosses, and, by
dint of strong imagination and stronger tobacco, becomes
a very Kalmuck in his back-garden ; and it is by no means
improbable that the grocer in his rockery and the grandee

THE GREAT LONE LAND. =~ > 325
at his rocketers draw their instincts of pleasure from the
same long-ago time—

“ When wild in woods the noble savage ran.”

But be this as it may, this long journey of-mine, despite its
excessive cold, its nights under the wintry heavens, its
days of ceaseless trave], had not as yet grown monotonous
or devoid of pleasure, and although there were moments
long before daylight when the shivering scene around the
camp-fire froze one to the marrow, and I half feared to ask
myself how many more mornings like this will I have to
endure? how many more miles have been taken from that
long total of travel? still, as the day wore on and the
hour of the midday meal came round, and, warmed and
hungry by exercise, I would relish with keen appetite the
plate of moose steaks and the hot delicious tea, as camped
amidst the snow, with buffalo robe spread out before the
fire, and the dogs watching the feast with perspective ideas
of bones and pan-licking, then the balanee would veer back
again to the side of enjoyment, and I could look forward to
twice 600 miles of ice and snow without one feeling of
despondency. These icy nights, too, were often filled with
the strange meteors of the north. Hour by hour have I
watched the many-hued shafts of the aurora trembling
from their northern home across the starlight of the zenith,
till their lustre lighted up the silent landscape of the
frozen river with that weird light which the Indians name
“ the dance of the dead spirits.” At times, too, the “ sun-
dogs” hung about the sun so close, that it was not always
easy to tell which was the real sun and which the mock
one ; but wild weather usually followed the track of the sun-
dogs, and whenever I saw them in the heavens I looked
for deeper snow and colder bivouacs.

326 THE GREAT LONE LAND.

Curlton stands on the edge of the great forest region

whose shores, if we may use the expression, are wasted by
the waves of the prairie ocean lying south of it; but the
waves are of fire, not of water. Year by year the great
torrent of. flame moves on deeper and deeper inte the dark
ranks of the solemn-standing pies; year by year a wider
reyion is laid open to the influenees of sun and shower, and
soon the traces of the conflict are hidden beneath the waving
grass, and clinging vetches, and the clumps of tufted prairie
roses. But another species of vegetation also springs up in
the track of the fire; groves of aspens and poplars grow
out of the burnt soil, giving to the country that park-like
appearance already spoken of. Nestling along the borders of
the innumerable lakes that stud the face of the Saskatchewan
region, these poplar thickets sometimes attain large growth,
but the fire too frequently checks their progress, and many
of them stand bare and dry to delight the eye of the
traveller with the assurance of an ample store of bright and
warm firewood for his winter camp when the sunset bids
hin begin to make all cosy against the night.

After my usual delay of one day, I set out from Carlton,
Lound for the pine woods of the Lower Saskatchewan. My
lirst stage was to be a short one. Sixty miles east frum
Carlton lies the small Presbyterian mission called Prince
Albert. Carlton being destitute of dogs, I was obliged to take
horses again into use; but the distance was only a two days’
march, and the track lay ull the way upon the river. The
wile of one of the Hudson Bay officers, desirous of visiting
the mission, took advantage of my escort to travel to Prince
Albert; and thus a lady, a nurse, and an infant aged eight
months, became suddenly added to my responsibilities, with
the thermometer varying between 7U° and §U? of frost. I
must candidlyadmit to having entertained very grave feclings

TOE GREAT LONE LAND. 327

at the contemplation of these family Habilities. A baby at
any period of a man’s life is a very serious affair, but a baby
Lelow zero is something appalling.

The first night passed over without accident. I resigned
my deerskin bag to the lady and her infant, and Mrs. Wins-
low herself could not have desired a more peaceful state of
slumber than that enjoyed by the youthful traveller. But
the second night was a terror long to be remembered ; the
cold was intense. Out of the inmost recesses of my aban-
doned bag came those dire screams which result from
infatitile disquictude. Shivering under my blanket, I
listened to the terrible commotion going on in the interior
of that cold-defying construction that so long had stood my
warmest friend.

At daybreak, chilled to the marrow, I rose, and gathered
the fire together in speechless agony: no wonder, the
thermometer stood at 40° below zero; and vet, ean it be
believed? the baby scemed to be perfectly oblivious to the
benefits of the bag, and continued to howl unmercifully.
Such is the perversity of human nature even at that early
ave! Our arrival at the mission put an end to my family
responsibilities, and restored me once more to the beloved
bag; but the warm atmosphere of a house soon revealed
the cause of much of the commotion of the night. “ Wasn’t-
it-its-mother’s-pet ” displayed two round red marks upon its
chubby countenanee ! “ Wasn’t-it-its-mother’s-pet ” had, in
fact, been frost-bitten about the region of the nese and
checks, and hence the hubbub. After a delay of two days
at the mission, during which the thermometer always
showed more than 60° of frost in the early-morning, I
continued my journey ‘towards the cast, crossing over from
the North to the South Branch of the Saskatchewan at a
point some twenty miles {rom the junction of the two rivers

328 THE GREAT LONE LAND.

—a rich and fertile land, well wooded and watered,.a region
destined in the near future to hear its echocs wake to other
suunds than those of moose-call or wolf-howl. It was dusk
in the evening of the 19th of January when we reached the
high ground which looks down upon the “forks” of the
Saskatchewan River. On some low ground at the far-
ther side of the North Branch a camp-fire glimmered
in the twilght. On the ridges beyond stood the dark
pines of the Great Sub-Aretic Forest, and below lay the
two broad converging rivers whose immense currents, hushed
beneath the weight of ice, here merged into the single
channel of the Lower Saskatchewan—a wild, weird scene it
looked as the shadows closed around it. We descended
with difficulty the steep bank and crossed the river to the
camp-fire on the north shore. Three red-deer hunters were
around it; they had some freshly killed elk-meat, and pota-
toes from Fort-a-la-Corne, eighteen miles below the forks;
and with so many delicacies our supper @-la-fourchette,.
despite a snow-storm, was a decided success.

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THE GREAT LONE LAND.

CHAPTER XXII. -

Tus Grear Sup-Anrctic Forest—Tute “ Forks” or tu SasKar-
ciewax—Ax TInoqvois—Port-i-La-ConnE—NEWS FROM TILE
OUTSIDE WorRLD—ALL Iraste ror Home—Tue supttary Wicwam
—Jor Mitrer’s Dear.

Ar the “ forks” of the Saskatchewan the traveller to the
east enters the Great Sub-Arctic Forest. Let us luok fora
moment at this region where the earth dwells in the per-
petual gloom of the pine-trees. Travelling north from the
Saskatchewan River at any portion of its course from
Carlton to Edmonton, one enters on the second day’s
journey this region of the Great Pine Forest. We have
before compared it to the shore of an ocean, and like a
shore it has its capes and promontories which stretch far
into the sea-like prairie, the indentations caused by the fires
sometimes forming large bays and open spaces won from
the domain of the forest by the fierce flames which beat
against it in the dry days of autumn. Some 500 or 600
miles to the north this forest ends, giving place to that
most desolate region of the earth, the barren grounds of the
extreme north, the lasting home of the musk-ox and the
summer haunt of the reindeer ; but along the valley of the
Mackenzie River the wooded tract is continued close to the
Aretie Sea, and on the shores of the great Bear Lake a slow
growth of four centuries scarce brings a circumference of
thirty inches to the trunks of the white spruce. Swamp and
lake, muskeg and river rocks of the earliest formations, wild

330 THE GREAT LONE LAND.

wooded tracks of impenetrable wilderness combine to make
this region the great preserve of the rich far-bearing
animals whose skins are rated in the marts of Europe at
four times their weightin guld. Here the darkest mink, the
silkiest sable, the blackest otter are trapped and traded ;
here are bred these rich furs whose possession women prize
as second only to precious stunes. Into the extreme north
of this region only the fur trader and the missionary have
as yet penetrated. The sullen Chipwayan, the feeble Dog-
rib, and the fierce and warlike Kutchin dwell along the
systems which carry the waters of this vast forest into
Hudson Bay ari the Arctic Ocean.

This place, the “forks” of the Saskatchewan, is des-
tincd at some time or other to be an important centre
of commerce and civilization. When men shall have cast
down the barriers which now intervene between the
shores of Lake Winnipeg and Lake Superior, what a
highway will not these two great river systems of the
St. Lawrence and the Saskatchewan offer to the trader!
Less than 100 miles of canal through low alluvial soil
have only to be built to carry a boat from the foot of
the Rocky Mountains to the head of Rainy Lake, within
100 miles of Lake Superior. With inexhaustible supplies of
vater held at a level high above the current surface of the
height of land, it is not too much to say, that before many
years have rolled by, boats will float from the base of the
Rocky Mountains to the harbour of Quebec. But Jong
before that time the Saskatchewan must have risen to
importance from its fertility, its beauty, and its mineral
wealth. Long before the period shall arrive when the
Saskatchewan will ship its products to the ocean, another
period will have come, when the mining populations of
Moutana and Idako will seck in the fertile glades of the

THE GREAT LONE LAND. 331

middle Saskatchewan a supply of those necessaries of life
which the arid soil of the central States is powerless to yield.
It is impossible that the wave of life which rolls so un-
ceasingly into America can Ieave unoccupied this great
fertile tract; as the river valleys farther east have all been
peopled long before settlers found their way into the coun-
tries lying at the back, so must this great valley of the
Saskatchewan, when once brought within the reach of
the emigrant, become the scene of numerous settlements.
As I stood in twilight leoking down on the silent rivers
merging into the great single stream which here enters
the forest region, the mind had little difficulty in seeing
another picture, when the river forks would be a busy scene
of commerce, and nian’s Inbour would waken echoes now
answering only to the wild things of plam and forest.
At this point, as I have said, we leave the plains and the
park-like country. The lend of the prairie Indian and
the butfzlo-hunter lies behind us—of the thick-wvod Indian
and moose-hunter before us.

As far back as 1780 the French had pushed their way into
the Saskatchewan and established forts along its banks. It
is generally held that their most western post was situated
below the junction of the Saskatchewans, at a place called
Nippoween ; but Iam of opinion that this is an error, and
that their pioneer settlements had even gone west of Carl-
ton. One of the earliest Enzlish travellers into the country,
in 1776, speaks of Fort-des-Prairies as a post twenty-four
days’ journey from Cumberland on the lower river, and as
the Hudson Bay Company ouly moved west of Cumberland
in 1774, it is only natural to suppose that this Fort-des-
Praivies had originally been a French post. Nothing proves
more conclusively that the whole territory of the Saskatche-
wan was supposed to have belonged by treaty to Canada,

332 THE GREAT LUNE LAND.

and not to England, than does the fact that it was only
at this date—1771—that the Hudson Bay Company took
possession of it.

During the bitter rivalry between the North-west and
the Hudson Bay Companics a small colony of Iroquois
Indians was brought from Canada to the Saskatchewan and
planted near the forks of the river. The descendants of
these men are still to be fuund scattered over different
portions of the country; nor have they lost that boldness
and skill in all the wild works of Indian life which made
their tribe such formidable warriors in the early contests of
the French colonists; neither have they lost that gift of
eloquence which was so much prized in the days of
Champlain and Frontinac. Here are the concluding words
of a-specch addressed by an Iroquois against the establish-
ment of a missionary station near the junction of the
Saskatchewan: “ You have spoken of your Great Spirit,”
sud the Indian ; “ you have told us He died for all men—
for the red tribes of the West as for the white tribes of
the East; but did He not die with Ilis arms stretched forth
in different directions, one hand towards the rising sun and
the other towards the setting sun ?”

“ Well, it is true.”

« And now say, did He not mean by those outstretched
arms that for evermore the white tribes should dwell in the
East and the red tribes in the West? when the Great
Spirit could not speak, did He not still point out where His
children should live?” What a curious compound must be
the man who is capable of such a strange, beautiful metaphor
and yet remain a savage!

Fort-i-la-Corne lies some twenty miles below the point
of junction of the rivers. Towards Fort-i-la-Corne I bent
my steps with a strange anxicty, for at that point I was to

THE GREAT LONE LAND. — 333

intercept the “ Winter Express” carrying from Red River
its burden of news to the far-distant forts of the Mac-
kenzie River. This winter packet had left Fort Garry in
mid-December, and travelling by way of Lake Winnipeg,
Norway House and Cumberland, was due at Fort-d-la-
Corne about the 21st January. Anxiously then did I
press on to the little fort, where I expected to get tidings
of that strife whose echoes during the past month had been
powerless to pierce the solitudes of this lone land. With
tired dogs whose pace no whip or call could aceclerate, we
reached the fort at midday on the 21st. On the river,
close by, an old Indian metus. Tas the packet arrived?
“Ask him if the packet has come,’ I said. He only
stared blankly at me and shook his head. JI had for-
gotten, what was the packet to him? the capture of a
musk-rat was of more consequence than the capture of Metz.
The packet had not come, I found when we reached the
fort, but it was hourly expected, and I determined to
await its arrival.

Two days passed away in wild storms of snow. The wind
howled dismally through the pine woods, but within the
logs erackled and flew, and the board of my host was always
set with moose steaks and good things, although outside,
and far down the river, starvation had Jaid his hand
heavily upon the red man. It had fallen dark some hours
on the evening of the 22nd January when there came a
knock at the door of our house; the raised latch gave ad-
mittance to an old travel-worn Indian who held in his hand a
small bundle of papers. He had cached the packet, he said,
many miles down the river, for his dogs were utterly tired
out and unable to move; he had come on himself with a
few papers for the fort: the snow was very deep to
Cumberland; he had been eight days in travelling, alone,

Bork TNE GREAT LONE LAND.

200 miles; he was tired and starving, and white with drift
and storm. Such was his tule. I tore open the packet—
it was a paper of mid-November. Metz had surrendered ;
Orleans been retaken; Paris, starving, still held out; for
the rest, the Russians had torn to picees the Treaty of
Paris, and our millions and our priceless blood had been
spilt and spent in vain on the Peninsula of the Black Sea
—perhaps, after all, we would fight? So the night drew
itself out, and the pine-tops began to jay the horizon before
IT ceased to read.

Early on the following morning the express was hauled
from its eache and brought to the fort; but it failed to
throw much later Hight upon the meagre news of the
previous evening. Old Adam was tried for verbal intelli-
genee, but he too proved a failure. He had carried the
packet from Norway House on Lake Winnipeg to Carlton
for more than a score of winters, and, from the fact of his
being the bearer of so much news in his lifetime, was looked
upon by his compeers as a kind of condensed electric tele-
graph ; but when the question of war was fairly put to
him, he gravely replicd that at the forts he had heard
there was war, und “England,” he added, “was gaining
the day.” This latter fact was too much for me, for I
was Lut too well aware that had war been declared in
November, an army organization based upon the Parlia-
mentary system was not likely to have “ guined the day 7
in the short space of three weeks.

To cross with celerity the 700 miles lying between me
and Fort Garry became now the chief object of my life. I
lightened my baggage as much as possible, dispensing with
many comforts of clothing and equipment, and on the morn-
ing of the 23rd January started for Cumberland. I will not
dwell on the seven days that now ensued, or how from long

TNE GREAT LONE LAND. 335

hefore dawn to verge of evening we toiled down the great
silent river. It was the close of January, the very depth of
winter. With heads bent down to meet the crushing blast, we
plodded ox, ofttimes as silent as the river and the forest, from
whose bosom no sound ever came, no ripple ever broke, no
bird, no beast, no human face, but ever the same great
forest-fringed yiver whose majestic turns bent always
to the north-east. - To tell, day after day, the extremetof cold
that now seldom varied would be to inflict on the reader
a tiresome record; an], in truth, there would be no use in
attempting it; 40° below zcro means so many things im-
possible to picture or to describe, that it would be a hopeless
task to enter upon its delineation. After one has gone
through the list of all those things that freeze ; after one has
spoken of the knife which Uurns the hand that would touch
its blade, the tea that freezes while it is being drunk,
there still remains a sense of having said nothigg; a sense
which may perhaps be better understood by saying that
40° below zero means just one thing more than all these
items—it means death, in 2 period whose duration would
expire in the hours of a winter’s daylight, if there was no
fire or means of making it on the track.

Conversation round 2 camp-fire in the North-west ts
limited to one subject—degs and dog-driving. To be
a good driver of degs, and to be able to ran fifty miles
in a day with ease, is to be a great man. The
fame of a noted deg-driver spreads far and wide. Night
after night would I listen to the prodigies of running per-
formed by some Ba’tiste or Angus, doughty champions of
the rival races. If Bwtiste dwelt at Cumberland, I would
begin to hear his name mentioned 200 miles from that place,
and his fame would still be talked of 200 miles beyond it.
With delight would I hear the name of this celebrity dying

336 TNE GREAT LONE BAND.

gradually away in distance, for by the disappearance of some
oft-heard name and the rising of some new constellation of
dog-driver, one could mark a stage of many hundred miles
on the long road upon which I was travelling.

On the 29th January we reached the shore of Pine Island
Lake, and saw in our track the birch lodge ofan Indian. It
was before sunrise, and we stopped the dogs to warm our
fingers over the fire of the wigwam. Within sat a very old
Indian and two or three women and children. The old man
was singing to himself a low monotonous chant;-beside him
some reeds, marked by the impress of a human form, were
spread upon the ground; the fire burned brightly in the
centre of the lodge, while the smoke escaped and the light
entered through the same round aperture in the top of the
conical roof. When we had entered and seated ourselves,
the old man still continued his song. ‘What is he
saying?” I asked, although the Indian etiquette forbids
abrupt questioning. “Tle is singing for his son,” a man
answered, “who died yesterday, and whose body they have
taken to the fort last night.” It was even so. «A French
Canadian who had dwelt in Indian fashion for some years,
marrying the daughter of the old man, had died from the
effects of over-exertion in running down a silver fox, and”
the men from Cumberland had taken away the body a few
hours before. Thus the old man mourned, while his
daughter, the widow, and a child sat moodily looking at
the flames. “ He hunted for us; he fed us,” the old man
said. ““Iam too old to hunt; I can seurce see the light;
I would like to die too’ Those old words which the pre-
sence of the great mystery forces from our lips—those
words of consolation which some one says are “ chaff well
meant for grain”—were changed into their Cree equi-
valents and duly rendered to him, but he only shook his

THE GREAT LONE LAND. 337

head, as though the change of language had not altered the
value of the commodity. But the name of the dead hunter
was a curious anomaly—Joe Miller. ‘What a strange anti-
thesis appeared this name beside the presence of the child-
less father, the fatherless child, and the mateless woman!
One service the death of poor Joe Miller conferred on me—
the dog-sled that had carricd his body had made a track
over the snow-covered lake, and we quickly glided along it
to the Fort of Cumberland.

338 THE GREAT LONE LAND.

CHAPTER XXII.

Cuxpennaxp—WE Buy voor Joz—A coop Trary or Doss—Tue
Great Marsu—Motisy—Cuincac tue Srureeox-risien—aA
Nicur wirt a Mepicre-ay—Laxes Wissiecoosis axp Maxt-
TOBA—MUSRKEYMOTE EATS mis Boots—Wer react TWE SETTLE-
MENT—FxoM tHe SASKATCHEWAN TO THE SELNE.

Compertaxp Hovse, the oldest post of the Company
in the interior, stands on the south shore of Pine Island
Lake, the waters of which seck the Saskatchewan by
two channels — Tearing River and Big-stone River.
These two rivers form, together with the Saskatchewan
and the lake, a large island, upon which stands Cum-
berland. Time moves slowly at such places as Cumber-
land, and change is almost unknown. To-day it is
the same as it was 100 years ago. An old list of goods
sent to Cumberland from England in 1783 had preeisely
the same items as one of 1870. Strouds, cotton, beads,
and trading-guns are still the wants of the Indian, and are
still traded for marten and musquash. In its day Cumber-
Jand has had distinguished visitors. Franklin, in 1819,
wintered at the fort, and a sun-dial still stands im rear
of the house, a gift from the great explorer. We buried
Joe Miller in the pine-shadowed graveyard near the fort.
Hard work it was with pick and crowbar to prise up the
ice-locked earth and to get poor Joe that depth which the
frozen clay would seem to grudge him. It was long after
dark when his bed was ready, and by the light of a couple

TIE GREAT LONE LAND. 339

of lanterns we Jaid him down in the great rest. The
graveyard and the funeral had few of those accessories of
the modern mortuary which are supposed to be the charac-
teristics of civilized sorrow. There was no mute, no crape,
no parade—nothing of that imposing array of hat-bands and
horses’ by which man, even in the face of the mighty
mystery, seeks still to glorify the miserable conceits of life ;
but the silent snow-laden pine-trees, the few words of
prayer read im the flickering light of the lantern, the
hush of nature and of night, made accessions full as fitting
as all the mufiled music and craped sorrow of church and
erty.

At Cumberland I beheld for the first time a genuine
train of dogs. There was no mistake about them in shape
or form, from fore-goer to hindermost hauler. Two of
them were the pure Esquimaux breed, the bush-tailed,
fox-headed, long-furred,’ clean-legged animals whose ears,
sharp-pointed and erect, sprung from a head embedded in
thick tufts of woolly hair; Pomeranians multiplied by
four; the other two were a curious compound of Esquimaux
and Athabascan, with hair so long that eyes were scarcely
visible. I had suffered so long from the wretched condition
and description of the dogs of the Hudson Bay Company,
that I determined to become the possessor of those animals,
and, although I had to pay considerably more than had
ever been previously demanded as the price of a train of
dogs in the North, Iwas still glad to get them at any
figure. Five hundred miles yet lay between me .and
Red River—five hundred miles of marsh and frozen lakes,
the delta of the Saskatchewan and the great Lakes Winni-
pegoosis and Manitoba.

It was the last day of January when I got away from
Cumberland with this fine train of dogs and another

z2 .

340 THE GREAT LONE LAND.

serviceable set which belonged to a Swampy Indian
named Bear, who had agreed to accompany me to
Red River. Bear was the son of the old man whose
evolutions with the three pegs had caused so much com-
motion among the Indians at Red River on the oceasion
of my visit to Fort Garry cight months earlier. He was
now to be my close companion during many days and
nights, and it may not be out of place here to anticipate
the verdict of three weeks, and to award him as a vogugeur
snew-shoer and camp-maker a place second to none in
the long list of my employés. Soon after quitting Cumber-
land we struck the Saskatchewan River, and, turning east-
ward along it, entered the great region of marsh and
swamp. During five days our course lay through vast
expanses of stiff frozen reeds, whose corn-like stalks rattled
harshly against the parchment sides of the cariole as the
dog-trains wound along through their snow-covered roots.
Bleak and dreary beyond expression stretched this region
of frozen swamp for fully 100 miles. The cold remained
all the time at alout the same degree—20° below zero.
The camps were generally poor and miserable ones. Stunted
willow is the chief timber of the region, and fortunate did
we deem ourselves when at nightfall a low line of willows
would rise above the sea of reeds to bid us scek its shelter
for the night. The snow became deeper as we proceeded.
At the Pasquia three feet lay level over the country, and
the dogs sank deep as they toiled along Through this
great marsh the Saskatchewan winds in tortuous course,
its flooded level in summer scarce lower than the alluvial
shores that line it. The bends made by the river would
have been too long to follow, so we held a straight track
through the marsh, cutting the points as we-travelled. It
was difficult to imagine that this many-channelled, marsh-

TUE GREAT LONE LAND. D41

lined river could be the same noble stream whose mountain-
birth Thad beheld far away in the Rocky Mountains, and
whose central course had lain for so many miles through
the bold precipitous bank of the Western prairies.

On the 7th February we emerged from this desolate region
of lake and swamp, and saw before us in the twilight a ridge
eovered with dense woods. It was the west shore of the
Cedar Lake, and on the wooded promontory towards which
we steered some Indian sturgeon-fishers had pitched their
lodges. But Thad not got thus far without much trouble and
vexatious resistance. Of the three men from Cumberland,
one had utterly knocked up, aud the other two had turned
mutinous. What cared they for my anxiety to push on for
Red River? What did it matter if the whole world was at
war? Nay, must I not be the rankest of impostors; for if
there was war away beyond the big sea, was that not the
very reason why any man possessing a particle of sense
should take his time over the journey, and be in no hurry
to get back again to his house?

One night I reached the post of Moose Lake a few hours
before daybreak, having been induced to make the flank march
by representations of the wonderful train of dogs at that sta-
tion, and being anxious to obtain them in addition to my own.
It is almost needless to remark that these dogs had no exist-
ence except in the imagination of Bear and his companion.
Arrived at Moose Lake (one of the most desolate spots I had
ever looked upon), I found out that the dog-trick was not the
only one my mén intended playimg upon me, for a message
was sent in by Bear to the effect that his dogs were unable
to stand the hard travel of the past week, and that he could
no longer accompany me. Here was a pleasant prospect—
stranded on the wild shores of the Moose Lake with one

train of dogs, deserted and deceived! There was but one

342 THE GREAT LONE LAND.

course to pursue, and fortunately it proved the right one.
“Can you give me a guide to Norway House?” 1 asked
the Hudson Bay Company’s half-breed clerk. “Yes.”
“ Then tell Bear that he can go,” I said, “and the quicker
he gocs the better. I will start for Norway House with
my single train of dogs, and though it will add cighty
miles to my journey I will get from thence to Red River
down the length of Lake Winnipeg. Tell Bear he has the
whole North-west to choose from except Red River. He had
better not vo there; for if I have to wait for six months for
his arrival, P11 wait, just to put him in prison for breach of
contract.” ‘What a glorious institution is the law! The
idea of the prison, that terrible punishment in the eyes of
the wild man, quelled the mutiny, and I was quickly as-
sured that the whole thing was a mistake, and that Bear
and his dogs were still at my service. Glad was I then, on
the night of the 7th, to behold the wooded shores of the
Cedar Lake rising out of the reeds of the great marsh, and
to know that by another sunset I would have reached the
Winnipegoosis and looked my last upon the valley of the
Saskatchewan.

The lodge of Chicag the sturgeon-fisher was small; one
entered almost on all-fours, and once inside matters were
not much bettered. To the question, “Was Chicag at
home?” one of his ladies replied that he was attending
a medicine-feast close by, and that he would soon be in. A
loud and prolonged drumming corroborated the statement
of the medicine, and seemed to indicate that Chicag was
putting on the steam with the Manito, having got an
inkling of the new arrival. Meantime I inquired of Bear as
to the ceremony which was being enacted. Chicag, or the
“ Skunk,’ I was told, and his friends were bound to de-
your as many sturycon and to drink as much sturgeon oil ax

THE GREAT LONE LAND. 343

it was possible to contain. When that point had been at-
tained the ceremony might be considered over, and if the
morrow’s dawn did not show the sturgeon nets filled with
fish, all that could be said upon the matter was that the
* Manito was oblivious to the efforts of Chieag and his eom-
rades. “The drumming now reached a point that seemed to
indieate that either Chieag or the sturgeon was having a
bad time of it. Presently the noise ceased, the low door
opened, and the “ Skunk” entered, followed by some ten or
a dozen of his friends and relations. How they all found
room in the little hut remains a mystery, but its eight-by-
ten of superficial space held some eighteen persons, the
greater number of whom were greasy with the oil of the
sturgeon. Meantime a supper of sturgeon had been pre-
pared for me, and great was the excitement to watch me eat
it. The fish was by no means bad; but I have reason to
believe that my performance in the matter of eating it was
not at alla success. It is true that stifling atmosphere, in-
tense heat, and many varieties of nastiness and nudity are
not promoters of appetite; but even had I been given a
clearer stage and more favourable conducers towards vora-
city, I must still have proved buta mere nibbler of sturgeon
in the eyes of such a whale as Chicag.

Glad to escape from the suffocating hole, I emptied my
fire-bag of tobacco among the group and got out into the cold
night-air. What achange! Over the silent snow-shected
lake, over the dark isles and the cedar shores, the moon was
shining amidst a deep blne sky. Around were grouped a few
birch-bark wigwams. My four dogs, now well known and
trusty friends, were holding high carnival over the heads and
tails of Chicag’s feast. In one of the wigwams, detached from
the rest, sat a, very old man wrapped in a tattered blanket.
Ile was splitting wood into little pieces, and feeding a small

344 THE GREAT LONE LAND.

fire in the centre of the lodge, while he chattered to himself
all the time. The place was clean, and as I watched the
little old fellow at his work I decided to make my bed in his
lodge. He was no other than Parisiboy, the medicine-man
of the camp, the quaintest little old savage I had ever en-
countered. Two small white mongrels alone shared his
wigwam. “See,” he said, “I have no one with me but
these two dogs.” The curs thus alluded to felt themselves
bound to prove that they were cognizant of the fact by
shoving forward their noses one on each side of old Parisi-
boy, an impertinence on their part which led to their sudden
expulsion by being pitched headlong out of the door.
Parisiboy now commenced a lengthened exposition of his
woes. “ His blanket was old and full of holes, through which
the cold found easy entrance. He was a very great medi-
cine-man, but he was very poor, and tea was a luxury which
he seldom tasted.” I put a handful of tea into his little
kettle, and his bright eyes twinkled with delight under their
shaggy brows. “TI never go to sleep,” he continued; “it
is too cold to go to sleep; I sit up all night splitting wood
and smoking and keeping the fire alight; if I had tea I
would never lie down at all.” As I made my bed he con-
tinued to sing to himself, chatter and laugh with a peculiar
low chuckle, watching me all the time. His first brew of
‘tea was quickly made; hot and strong, he poured it into a
cup, and drank it with evident delight; then in went more
water on the leaves and down on the fire again went the
little kettle. But I was not permitted to lie down without
intermmption. Chicag headed a deputation of his brethren,
and grew loud over the recital of his grievances. Between
the sturgeon and the Company he appeared to think himself
a victim, but I was unalle to gather whether the balance of
ill-treatment lay on the side of the fish or of the corporation.

THE GREAT LONE LAND. 345

Finally I got rid of the lot, and crept into my bag. Parisi-
boy sat at the other side of the fire, grinning and chuckling
and sipping his tea. All night long I heard through my
fitful sleep his harsh chuckle and his song. Whenever I
opened my eyes, there was the little old man in the same
attitude, crouching over the fire, which he sedulously kept
alight. How many brews of tea he made, I can’t say; but
when daylight came he was still at the work, and as I re-
plenished the kettle the old leaves seemed well-nigh bleached
by continued boilings.

That morning I got away from the camp of Chicag, and
crossing one arm of Cedar Lake reached at noon the Mossy
Portage. Striking into the Cedar Forest at this point, I
quitted for good the Saskatchewan. Just three months
earlier I had struck its waters at the South Braneh, and
since that day fully 1600 miles of travel had carried me
far along its shores. The Mossy Portage is a low swampy
ridge dividing the waters of Cedar Lake from those of Lake
Winnipegoosis. From one inke to the other is a distance
of about four miles. Coming from the Cedar Lake the por-
tage is quite level until it reaches the close vicinity of the
Winnipegoosis, when there is a steep descent of some forty
feet to gain the waters of the latter lake. These two lakes
are supposed to lie at almost the same level, but I shall not
be surprised if a closer examination of their respective
heights proves the Cedar to be some thirty feet higher than
its neighbour the Winnipegoosis. The question is one of
considerable interest, as the Mossy Portage will one day or
other form the casy line of communication between the
waters of Red River and those of Saskatchewan.

It was late in the afternoon when we got the dogs on the
broad bosom of Lake Winnipegoosis, whose immense surface
spread out south and west until the sky alone bounded the

346 THE GREAT LONE LAND.

prospect. But there were many islands scattered over the
sea of ice that lay rolled before us; islands dark with the
pine-trees that covered them, and standing out in strong re-
lief from the dazzling whiteness amidst which they lay. On
one of these islands we camped, spreading the robes under
a large pine-tree and building up a huge fire from the
wrecks of bygone storms. This Lake Winnipegoosis, or the
“Small Sea,” is a very large expanse of water measuring
abont 120 miles in Jength and some 30 in width. Its shores
and islands are densely wooded with the white spruce, the
juniper, the banksian pine, and the black spruce, and as the
traveller draws near the southern shores he beholds again
the dwarf white-oak which here reaches its northern limit.
This growth of the oak-tree may be said to mark at present
the line between civilization and savagery. Within the
limit of the oak lies the country of the white man ; without
Hes that Great Lone Land through which my steps have
wandered so far. Descending the Lake Winnipegoosis to
Shoal Lake, I passed across the belt of forest which lies
between the two Jakes, and emerging again upon Winni-
pegoosis crossed it in a long day’s journey to the Waterhen
River. This river carries the surplus water of Winnipegoo-
sis into the large expanse of Lake Manitoba. For another
hundred miles this lake lays its length towards the south,
but here the pine-trees have vanished, and birch and poplar
alone cover the shores. Along the whole line of the western
shores of these lakes the bold ridges of the Pas, the Poreu-
pine, Duck, and Riding Mountains rise over the forest-
covered swamps which lie immediately along the water.
These four mountain ranges never exceed an elevation of
1600 feet above the sea. They are wooded to the summits,
and Jong ages ago their rugged chiffs formed, doubtless, a
fitting shore-line to that great luke whose fresh-water Dil-

THE GREAT LONE LAND. 347

lows were nursed in a space twice larger than even Superior
itself can boast of; but, as has been stated in an earlier
chapter, that inland ocean has long since shrunken into the
narrower limits of Winnipeg, Winnipegoosis, and Mani-
toba—the Great Sea, the Little Sea, and the Straits of
the God.

I have not dwelt upon the days of travel during
which we passed down the Iength of these Jakes. From
the camp of Chicag I had driven my own train of dogs,
with Bear the sole companion of the journey. Nor were
these days on the great Iakes by any means the dullest
of the journey, Cerf Volant, Tigre, Cariboo, and Muskey-
mote gave ample occupation to their driver. Long before
Manitoba was reached they had learnt a new lesson—that
men were not all eruel to dogs in camp or on the road.
It is true that in the Jearning of that Iesson some little
difficulty was occasioned by the sudden loosening and dis-
ruption of ideas implanted by generations of cruelty in the
dog-mind of my train. It is true that Muskeymote, in
particular, long held aloof from offers of friendship, and then
suddenly passed from the excess of caution to the extreme
of imprudence, imagining, doubtless, that the millennium
had at length arrived, and that dogs were henceforth no.
more to haul. But Muskeymote was soon set right upon
that point, and showed no inclination to repeat his mistake.
Then there was Cerf Volant, that most perfect Esquimaux.
Cerf Volant entered readily into friendship, upon an under-
standing of an additional half-fish at supper every evening.
No alderman ever loved his turtle better than did Cerf Volant
love his white fish ; but I rather think that the white fish was
better earned than the turtle—however we will let that be a
matter of opinion. Having satisfied his hunger, which, by-
the-way, is a luxury only allowed to the hauling-dog once a

348 THE GREAT LONE LAND.

day, Cerf Volant would generally establish himself in close
proximity to my feet, frequently on the top of the bag,
from which coigne of vantage he would exchange fierce
growls with any dog who had the temerity to approach us.
None of our dogs were harness-eaters, a circumstance that
saved us the nightly trouble of placing harness and cariole
in the branches of a tree. On one or two occasions
Muskeymote, however, ate his boots. “Boots!” the reader
will exclaim; “how came Muskeymote to possess boots ?
We have heard of a puss in boots, but a dog, that is some-
thing new.” Nevertheless Muskeymote had his boots, and
atethem,too. Thisis how a dog is putin boots. When the
day is very cold—I don’t mean in your reading of that word,
reader, but in its North-west sense—when the morning,
then, comes very cold, the dogs travel fast, the drivers run
to try and restore the circulation, and noses and cheeks
which grow white beneath the bitter blast are rubbed with
snow caught quickly from the ground without pausing in
therapid stride; on such mornings, and they are by no means
uncommon, the particles of snow which adhere to the fect
of the dog form sharp icicles between his toes, which grow
larger and larger as he travels. A knowing old hauler will
stop every now and then, and tear out these icicles with his
teeth, but a young dog plods wearily along leaving his foot-
prints in crimson stains upon the snow behind him. When
he comes into camp, he lies down and Jicks his poor
wounded feet, but the rest is only for a short time, and the
next start makes them worse than before. Now comes the
time for boots. The dog-boot is simply a fingerless glove
drawn on over the toes and foot,-and tied by a running
string of leather round the wrist or ancle of the animal ; the
boot itself is either made of leather or strong white cloth.
Thus protected, the dog will travel for days and days with

THE GREAT LONE LAND. 349

wounded feet, and get no worse, in fact he will frequently
recover while still on the journey. Now Muskeymote, being
a young dog, had not attained to that degree of wisdom
which induces older dogs to drag: the icicles from their toes,
and consequently Muskeymote had to be duly booted every
morning——a cold operation it was too, and many a ran had
I to make to the fire while it was being performed, holding
my hands into the blaze for a moment and then back again
to the dog. Upon arrival im camp these boots should
always be removed from the dog’s feet, and hung up in the
smoke of the fire, with moccassins of the men, to dry. It
was on an occasion when this custom had been forgotten
that Muskeymote performed the feat we have already
mentioned, of eating his boots.

The night-camps along the lakes were all good ones;
it took some time to clear away the deep snow and
to reach the ground, but wood for fire and young spruce-
tops for bedding were plenty, and fifteen minutes’ axe-
work sufficed to fell as many trees as our fire needed
for night and morning. From wooded point to wooded
point we journeyed on over the frozen lakes; the snow
lying packed into the crevices and uneven places of the ice
formed a compact Jevel surface, upon which the dogs scarce
marked the impress of their feet, and the sleds and cariole
bounded briskly after the train, jumping the little wavelets
of hardened snow to the merry jingling of innumerable
bells. On snow such as this dogs will make a run of forty
miles in a day, and keep that pace for many days in succes-
sion, but in the soft snow of the woods or the river thirty
miles will form a fair day’s work for continuous travel.

On the night of the 19th of February we made our
last camp on the ridge to the south of Lake Manitoba,
fifty miles from Fort Garry. Not without a feeling of

350 THE GREAT LONE LAND.

regret was the old work gone through for the last time
—the old work of tree-cutting, and fire-making, and
supper-frying, and dog-feeding. Once more I had reached
those confines of civilization on whose limits four months
earlier I had made my first camp on the shivering Prairie
of the Lonely Grave; then the long journey lay before me,
now the unnumbered scenes of nigh 3000 miles of travel
were spread out in that picture which memory sees in the
embers of slow-burning fires, when the night-wind speaks
‘in dreamy tones to the willow branches and waving grasses.
And if there be those among my readers who can ill com-
prehend such feelings, seeing only in this return the escape
from savagery to civilization—from the wild Indian to the
Anglo-American, from the life of toil and hardsbip to that
of rest and comfort—then words would be useless to throw
light upon the matter, or to better enable such men to
understand that it was possible to look back with keen re-
gret to the wild days of the forest and the prairie. Natures,
no matter how we may mould them beneath the uniform
pressure of the great machine called civilization, are not all
alike, and many men’s minds echo in some shape or other
the voice of the Kirghis woman, which says, “Man must
keep moving; for, behold, sun, moon, stars, water, beast,
bird, fish, all are in movement: it is but the dead and the
earth that remain in one place.”

There are many who have seen a prisoned lark sitting on
its perch, looking listlessly through the bars, from some
brick wall against which its cage was hung; but at times,
when the spring comes round, and a bit of grassy carth is
put into the narrow cage, and, in spite of smoke and mist,
the blue sky looks a moment on the foul face of the city,
the little prisoner dreams himself free, and, with eyes fixed
on the blue sky and feet clasping the tiny turf of green

THE GREAT LONE LAND. 35]

sod, he pours forth into the dirty street those notes which
nature taught him in the never-to-be-forgotten days of
boundless freedom. So I have seen an Indian, far down in
Canada, listlessly watching the vista of a broad river whose
waters and whose shores once owned the dominion of his
race; and when I told him of regions where his brothers
still built their lodges midst the wandering herds of the
stupendous wilds, far away towards that setting sun upon
which his eyes were fixed, there came a change over his
listless look, and when he spoke in answer there was in his
voice an echo from that bygone time when the Five
Nations were a mighty power on the shores of the Great
Lakes. Nor are such as these the only prisoners of our
civilization. He who has once tasted the unworded free-
dom of the Western wilds must ever feel a sense of con-
straint within the boundaries of civilized life. The Russian
is not the only man who has the Tartar close underneath
his skin. That Indian idea of the carth being free to all
men catches quick and lasting hold of the imagination—
the mind widens out to grasp the reality of the lone space
and cannot shrink again to suit the requirements of fenced
divisions. There is a strange fascination in the idea,
«-Wheresoever my horse wanders there is my home;”
stronger perhaps is that thought than any allurement of
wealth, or power, or possession given us by life. Nor ean -
after-time ever wholly remove it ; midst the smoke and hum
of cities, midst the prayer of churches, in street or salow, it
necds but little cause to recall again to the wanderer the
image of the immense meadows where, far away at the
portals of the setting’ sun, lies the Great Lone Land.

It is time to close. It was my Jot to shift the scene of
life with curious rapidity. In a shorter space of time than

352 THE GREAT LONE LAND.

it had taken to traverse the length of the Saskatchewan, I
stood by the banks of that river whose proud city had just
paid the price of conquest in blood and ruin—yet I wit-
nessed a still heavier ransom than that paid to German
robbers. I saw the blank windows of the Tuileries red
with the light of flames fed from five hundred years of his-
tory, and the flagged courtyard of La Roquette running
deep in the blood of Frenchmen spilt by France, while the
common enemy smoked and laughed, leaning lazily on the
ramparts of St. Denis.

APPENDIX.

GOVERNOR ARCHIBALD’S INSTRUCTIONS.
Fort Garry, 10t% October, 1870.

W. EF. Burier, Esq., 69th Regiment.

Sin,—Adverting to the interviews between his honour the Lieu-
tenant-Governor and yourself on the subject of the proposed
mission to the Saskatchewan, I have it now in command to acquaint
you with the objects his honour has in view in asking you to
undertake the mission, and also to define the duties he desires you
to perform.

In the first place, I am to say that representations have been
made from various quarters that within the last two years much
disorder has prevailed in the settlements along the line of the
Saskatchewan, and that the local authorities are utterly powerless
for the protection of life and property within that region. It is
asserted to be absolutely necessary for the protection, not only of
the Hudson Bay Company's Forts, but for the safety of the
settlements along the river, that a small body of troops should be
sent to some of the forts of the Hudson Bay Company, to assist
the local authorities“in- the maintenance of peace and order.

I am to enclose you a copy of a communication on this subject
from Donald A. Smith, Esq., the Governor of the Hudson Bay
Company, and also an extract of a letter from W. J. Christie, Esq.,
a chief factor stationed at Fort Carlton, which will give you some
of the facts which have been adduced to show the representations
to be well grounded.

The statements made in these papers come from the officers of

304 THLE GREAT LONE LAND.

the Hudson Bay Company, whose views may be supposed to be
in some measure affected by their pecuniary interests.

It is the desire of the Lientenant-Governor that you should examine
the matter entirely from an independent point of view, giving his
honour for the benefit of the Government of Canada your views of
the state of matters ou the Saskatchewan in reference to the necessity
of troops being seut there, basing your report upon what you shall
find hy actual examination.

You will be expected to report upon the whole question of the
existing state of affuirs in that territory, and to state your views
on what may be necessary to be done in the interest of peuce
and order.

Secondly, you are to ascertain, as far as you can, in what places
and among what tribes of Indians, and what settlements of whites,
the small-pox is now prevailing. including the extent of its ravages
and every particular you can ascertain in connexion with the rise
and the spread of the disease. You are to tuke with you such
small supply of medicines as shall be considered by the Board of
Health here suitable and proper for the treatment of smull-pox,
and you will obtain written instructions for the proper treatment
of the disease, and will leave a copy thereof with the chief officer of
each fort you pass, and with any clergyman or other intelligent
person belonging to settlements outside the forts.

You will also ascertain, as far as in your power, the number of
Indiuns on the line between Red River and the Rocky Mountains ;
the different nations and tribes into which they are divided and
the particular locality inhabited, and the language spoken, and
also the names of the principal chiefs of each tribe.

_ In doing this you will be careful to obtain the information
‘without in any manner leading the Indians to suppose you are
actifig under authority, or inducing them to form any expectations
hased on your inquiries.

You will also be expected to ascertain, as far as possible, the
nature of the trade in furs conducted upon the Saskatchewan, the
number and nationality of the persons employed in what has been
ealled the Free Trade there, and what portion of the supplies, if
any, come from the United States territory, and what portion of
the furs are sent thither; and generally to make such inquiries as
to the source of trade in that region as may enalle the Lieutenant-
Governor to form an accurate idea of the commerce of the Sas-
katchewan. ;

You are to report from time to time as you proceed westward,

APPENDIX. 355

and forward your communications by such opportunities as may
occur. The Lieutenant-Governor will rely upon your executing
this mission with all reasonable despatch.

(Signed) S. W. Hirt, P. Secretary,

LIEUTENANT BUTLER’S REPORT.

Intropuctory.

The Hon. Apamus G. ARCHIBALD,
Lieut.-Gorerner, Manitoba,

Sir,—Before entering into the questions contained in the written
instructions under which I acted, and before attempting to state an
opinion upon the existing situation of affairs In the Saskatchewan,
I will briefly allude to the time oceupied in travel, to the route fol-
lowed, and to the general circumstances attending my journey.
Starting from Fort Garry on the 25th October, I reached Fort
Ellice at juuction of Qu’Appelle and Assineboine Rivers on the 30th
of the same month. On the following day I continued my journey
towards Carlton, which place was reached on the 9th November, a
detention of two days having occurred upon the banks of the South
Saskatchewan River, the waters of which were only partially frozen.
After a delay of five duys in Carlton, the North Branch of the Sas-
katchewan was reported fit for the passage of horses, and on the
morning of the 1{th November I proceeded on my western journey
towards Edmonton. By this time snow had fallen to the depth of
about six inches over the country, which rendered it necessary to
abandon the use of wheels for the transport of baggage, substituting
a light sled in place of the cart which had hitherto been used,
although I still retained the same mode of conveyance, namely the
saddle, for personal use. Passing the Hudson Bay Company Posts
of Battle River, Fort Pitt and Victoria, I reached Edmonton on the
night of the 26th November. For the last 200 miles the country had
Lecome clear of snow, and the frosts, notwithstanding the high alti-
aa2

356 THE GREAT LONE LAND.

tude of the region, had decreased in severity. Starting again on
the afternoon of the Ist December. I recrossed the Saskatchewan
River below Edmonton and continued in a south-westerly direction
towards the Rocky Mountain House, passing through a country
which, even at that advanced period of the year, still retained many
traces of its summer beauty. At midday on the 4th December,
having passed the gorges of the Three Medicine Hills, I caime in sight
of the Rocky Mountains, which rose from the western extremity of
an immense plain and stretched their great snow-clad peaks far
away to the northern and southern horizons,

Finding it impossible to procure guides for the prosceution of my
journey south to Montana, I left the Rocky Mountain House on the
12th December and commenced my return travels to Red River along
the valley ofthe Saskatchewan. Snow had now fullen to the depth
of about a foot, and the cold had of late begun to show symptoms of
its winter intensity. Thus on the morning of the 5th December my
thermometer indicated 23° below zero, and again on the 18th 16°
below zero, a degree of cold which in itself was not remarkable, but
which had the effect of rendering the saddle by no means a com-
fortable mode of transport.

Arriving at Edmonton on the 16th December, I exchanged my
horses for dogs, the saddle for a small caricle, and on the 20th
December commenced in earnest the winter journey to Red River.
The cold. long delayed, now began in all its severity. On the 22nd
December my thermometer at ten o'clock in the morning indicated
35° Lelow zero. later in the day a biting wind swept the long reaches
of the Saskatchewan River and rendered travelling on the ice almost
insupportable. To note hore the long days of travel down the great
valley of the Saskatchewan, ‘at times on the frozen river and at
times upon the neighbouring plains, would prove only a tiresome
record, Little by little the snow seemed to deepen, day by day the
frost to obtain a more lasting power and to bind ina still more solid
embrace all visiile Nature. No human voice, no sound of bird or
heast, no ripple of stream to break the intense silence of these vast
solitudes of the Lower Saskatchewan. At length, early in the month
of Febraary. I quitted the valley of Saskatchewan at Cedur Lake,
crossed the ridge which separates that sheet of water from Lake
Winnipegoosis, and. descending the Iatter lake to its outlet at
Waterhen River, pussed from thence to the northern extremity of
the Lake Manitoba. Finally, on the 18th February, J reached the
settlement of Oak Point on south shore of Manitoba, and two days
jater arrived at Fort Garry.

APPENDIX. 357

In following the river und lake route from Carlton, I passed
in succession the Mission of Prince Albert, Forts-t-la-Corne and
Cumberland, the Posts of the Pas, Mooxe Lake. Shoal River and
Manitoba House, and, with a few exceptions, travelled upon ice the
entire way.

The jourucy from first to last oceupied 119 days and embraced a
distance of about 2700 mites.

IT bave now to offer the expression of my best acknowledemenisto
the officers of the various posts of the Hudson Bay Company passed
en route. To Mx. W. J. Christie, of Edmonton, to Mr. Richard
Hardistry, of Victoria, as well as to Messrs. Hackland, Sinclair,
BaNenden, Trail, Turner, Belanger. Matheison, McBeath, Munro,
and McDonald, Iam indebted for much kindness and hospitality,
and I have to thank Mr. W. J. Christie for information of much
value regarding statistics connected with his district. I have also
to offer to the Rev. Messrs. Lacombe, McDougall, and Nisbet the
expression of the obligations which Iam under tewards them for
uuiform kindness and huspitality.

GexeraL Reporr.

Having in the foregoing pages briefly alluded to the time occupied
in travel, to the route followed, and to the general circumstances
attending my journey, I now propose entermg upon the subjects
contained in the written instructions under which I acted, and in the
first instance to lay before you the views which I have formed upon
the important question of the existing state of affairs in the Sas-
katchewan.

The institutions of Law and Order, as understood in civilized
communities, are wholly unknown in the regions of the Suskut-
chewan, insomuch as the country is without any executive organi-
zation, and. destitute of any means to enforce the authority of the
law.
I do not mean to assert that crime and outrage are of habitual ov-
currence among the people of this territory, or that a state of anarchy
exists in any particular portion of it, but itis an undoubted fact that
crimes of the most serious nature have been commitied, in vitrious
places, by persons of mixed and native blood, without any vindica-
tion of the law being possible, and that the position of affairs rests

3558 THE GREAT LON LAND.

at the present moment not on the just power of an exceutive
authority to enforee chedience. Iut rather upon the passive acquics-
cence of the majority of a scant population who hitherto have lived
in ignorance of those conflicting interests which. 11 more populons
und civilized communities. tend to anarchy und disorder.

But the question may le asked. lf the Tudson Bay Company
represent the centres “round which the hulf-breed settlers have
gathered, how then dees it oceur that that body should be destitute
of governing power, and wnable te repress crime end outrage? To
this question T would reply that the Iudson Bay Company, being
2 commercial corpo ation dependent for its profits on the snffrages
of the people. is of necessity caticus In the exercise of repressive
powers; that, also, it is exposed in the Saskatchewan to the evil
influence which free trate has ever developed among the native
races; that, furthermore. it is rought in contact with tribes long
remarkable for their lawlessness and ferocity; and that. lastly. the
elements of disorder in the whole territory of Saskatchewan are
for many cages. yenrly on the increase. But before entering upon
the swhject into which this Jast consideration would lead me. it will
be advisuble to glance at the various elements which comprise the
population of this Western region. In point of numbers, and in the
power which they possess of cummitting depredations. the aleriginal
races claim the forenwst place among the inhabitants of the Sas-
katchewan. These tribes. like the Indians of other porticns of
Rupert's Land and the North-west. carry on the pursuits of Jsunt-
ing. bringing the produce of their hunts to barter for the goods of
the Hudson Bay Company; Dut, unlike the Indians of amore
northern regions, they subsist almost entirely upon the Duffalo, and
they carry on among themscives un unceasing warfare which has
lony Lecome traditional. Accustomed to regard murder as honour-
able war, robbery and pillage as the traits most ennobling te man-
hood, free from all restraint, these warring tribes of Crees, Assine-
Loines, and Blackieet form some of the most savage among even the
wild races of Western America.

Hitherto it may be suid that the Crees have looked upon the white
man as their friend, but latterly indications have not been wanting
to foreshadow a change in this respect—a change which I have
found many causes to necount for, and which. if the Saskatchewan
remains in its present condition, must. I fear, deepen into more
positive enmity. The buffalo, the red man’s sole means of subsist
enee, is rapidly disappearing; yeur by yeur the prairies, which once
shook beneath the tread of countless herds of Iisuus, are becomiug

APPENDIX. 359

denuded of animal life. and year by year the affliction of starvation
comes with an ever-increasing intensity upon the land. There are
men still living who remember to have hunted buffalo on the shores
of Lake Manitoba. Ft is ecarcely twelve years since Fort Ellice. on
the Assinebuine Riser, formed one of the principal posts of supply
tor the Hudson Bay Company; and the vast prairies which flank
the southern and western xpurs of the Touchwood Hills, now ntterly
silent and deserted, ave still white with the Lones of the migratory
herds which. until lately, roamed over their surface. Nor is this
wbsence of animal life confined to the plains of the Qu’Appelle and
of the Upper Assineboine—all along the line of the North Sas-
katchewan, from Carlton to Edmonton House, the same scarcity
prevails; and if further Wustration of this decrease of buffalo be
wanting, I would state that, during the present winter, I have
traversed the plains from the Red River to the Rocky Mountains
without seeing even, one solitary animal upon 1200 miles of prairie.
The Indian is not slow to attribute this lessening of his principal food
to the presence of the white and half-breed settlers, whose active com-
petition for pemmican (valuable as supplying the transport service
of the Hudson Bay Company) has led to this all but total exting-
tion of the bison.

Nor does he fail to trace other grievances—some real, some
imaginary—to the same cause. Wherever the half-breed settler
or hunter has established himself he has resorted to the ase of poisen
is 2 means of destroying the wolves and foxes which were numerous
on the prairies. This most pernicious practice has had the effect of
greatly embittering the Indians against the settler, for not ouly have
large numbers of animals been uselessly destroyed. inasmuch as
fully one-half the animals thus killed are lost to the trapper. but
also the poison is frequently communicated to the Indian dogs, and
thus a very important mode of winter transport is lost to the red
man. It is asserted, too, that horses are sometimes poisoned by
eating grasses which have become tainted by the presence of strych-
nine; and although this latter assertion may not be true, yet its
effects are the same. as the Indian fully believes it. In consequence
of these losses a2 threat has been made, very generally, by the
natives against the half-breeds, to the effect thatif the use of poison
was persisted in, the horses Lelonging to the settlers would be
shot.

Another inereasing source of Indian discontent is to be found in
the policy pursued by the American Government in their settlement
of the countries lying south of the Saskatchewan. Throughout the

360 THE GREAT LONE LAND.

territories of Dakota and Montana a state of hostility has lone
existed between the Americans and the tribes of Sioux, Bkick-
feet. and Peagin Indians. This state of hostility has latterly
degenerated, on the part of the Americans, into a war of extermi-
nation; and the policy of “clearing out” the red man has now
become a recognized portion of Indian warfare. Some of these acts
of extermination find their way into the public records, many of
them never find publicity. Among the former, the attack made
duriug the spring of 1870 by a large party of troops upon a camp
of Peagin Indians close to the British boundary-line will be fresh
in the recollection of your Excellency. The tribe thus attacked
was suffering severely from small-pox, was surprised at daybreak by
the soldiers, who, rushing in upon the tents, destroyed 170 men,
women, and children in a few moments. This tribe forms one of
the four nations comprised in the Blackfeet league. and have their
hunting-grounds partly on British and partly on American territory.
T have mentioned the presence of small-pox in connexion with these
Indians. Itis very generally believed in the Saskatchewan that
this disease was originally communicated to the Blackfeet tribes by
Missouri traders with a view to the aceumulation of robes; and
this opinion. monstrous though it may appear. has been somewhat
verified by the Western press when treating of the epidemic last
year. As I propose to enter at some length into the question of this
disease ut a luter portion of this report. I now only make allusion to
it as forming one of the grievances which the Indian affirms he
suffers at the hands of the white man.

In estimating the causes of Indian discontent as bearing upon
the fature preservation of peace and order in the Saskatchewan,
and as ilustrating the growing difficulties which a commercial
corporation like the Hudson Bay Company have to contend against
when acting in an executive capacity, I must now allnde to the sub-
ject of Free Trade. The policy of a free trader in furs is essentially
a short-sighted one—he does not care about the future—the con-
tinuance and partial well-leing of the Indian is of no consequence
to him. His object is to obtain possession of all the furs the
Indian may have at the moment to barter, and to gain that end
he spares no effort. Alcohol. discontinued by the Hudson Bay
Company in their Saskatchewan district for many years, has been
freely uxed of ate by free traders from Red River; and, as great
competition always exists between the traders and the employés of
the Company, the former hare not hesitated to circulate among
the natives the idea that they have suffered much injustice in their

APPENDIX. 361

Intercourse with the Company. The events which tvok place in
the Settlement of Red River during the wiuter of “69 and ‘70
have alsu tended to disturh the minds of the Indians—they have
heard of changes of Government, of rebellion and pillage of property,
of the ocenpation of forts belonging to the Hudson Bay Company,
and the stuppage of trade and ammunition. Many of these events
have been magnified and distorted—evil-disposed persons have not
been wanting to spread abrodd among the natives the idea of the
downfall of the Company, and the threatened immigration of
settlers to occupy the hunting-grounds and. drive the Indian from
the Iand. .AJl these rumours, some of them vague and wild in
the extreme, have found ready credence by camp-fires and in
council-lodge, aud thus it is easy to perceive how the red man,
with many of his old convictions and beliets rudely shaken, should
now be more disturbed and discontented than he has been at any
former period.

In endeavouring to correctly estimate the present condition of
Tndian atfiirs In the Sasiatchewan the efforts and influence of the
various missionary bodies must not be overlooked. It has only
been during the last twenty years that the Plain Tribes have been
brought into contact with the individuals whom the contributions
of Evropean and Colonial communities have sent out on missions
of religion and civilization. Many of these individuals have tuiled
with untiring energy and undaunted perseverance in the work to
which they have devoted themselves. but it is unfortunately true
that the jarring interests of different religious denomiations have
sometimes induced them to introduce into the field of Indian
theology that polemical rancour which so unhappily distinguishes
more civilized commanities.

To fully understand the question of missionary enterprise. as
bearing upon the Indian tribes of the Saskatchewan valley, I must
glance for a moment at the peculiarities in the mental condition of
the Indians which render extreme caution necessary in all inter-
course between bim and the white man. It is most difficult to
make the Indian comprehend the true nature of the foreigner with
whom he is brought in contact, or rather, I should say, that having
his own standard by which he measures troth and falsehood, misery
and happiness. and all the accompaniments of life, it is almost
impossible to induce him to look at the white man from any point
of view but his own. From this point of view every thing is Indian.
English, French, Canadians, and Americans are so many tribes
ivhabiting various parts of the world, whose land is bad, and who

362 TIE GREAT LONE LAND.

are not possessed of buffalo-—for this last desideratum they (the
strangers) send goods, missions, &e., to the Indians of the Plains.
“AI” they say. «if it was not for our buffalo where would yor be?
You would starve, your bones would whiten the prairies.” It is
useless tu tell them that such is not the case. they answer. * Where
then does all the pemmican go to that yon take away in your boats
and in your carts?” With the Indian. seving is believing. and
his world is the visible one in which his wild life is cast. This
leing understoud. the necessity for caution in communicating with
the native will at once be apparent—yet such caution on the part
of those who seek the Indians as missionaries is not always
observed. Tuo frequently the language suitable for civilized society
has been addressed to the red man. He is told of governments.
and changes in the political world. successive religious systems are
Jail Lefore him by their various advocates. To-day he is told tu
believe one religion. to-morrow to have faith in another. Is it any
wonder that. applying his own simple tests to so much conflicting
testimony. he bycumes utterly confused. unsettled, and suspicious ?
Tu the white man. as a white man. the Indian has no dislike; on
the contrary. he is pretty certain to receive bim with kinduess and
friendship, provided always that the new-comer will adupt the
native system. join the hunting-camp. and live on the plains; ut
to the white man as a settler. or hunter on his own account, the
Crees and Blackfeet are ia direct antugonism. Ownership in any
particular portion of the soil by an individual is altogether foreign
to men who, in the course of a single summer. roam over 500 miles
of prairie. In another portion of this report I hope to refer again
to the Indian question. when treating upon that clanse in my
instructions which relates exclusively to Indian matters. I have
alluled here to missionary enterprise, and to the Indian generally,
- as buth subjects are very closely connected with the state of affuirs
in the Saskatchewan.

Next in importance to the native race is the half-breed element
in the population which now claims our attention.

The persons composing this class are chicily of French descent—
originally uf uo fixed habitation. they have, within the last few
years. been induced by their cleryy to form scattered settlements
along the line of the North Saskatchewan. Many of them have
emigrated tram Red River. and others are either the discharged
servants of the Undyon Bay Company or the relatives of persons
sul in the employment of the Company. Tn contradistinetion to
this latter class they Dear the name of + Tree men “and if freedom

SKN.

APPENDIX. 30>

from all restraint. general inaptitude for settled employment, and
love for the pursuits of hunting be the characteristics of free men,
then they are eminently entitled to the name they bear. With
very few exceptions. they have preferred adopting the exciting but
precarious means of living. the chase. to following the more certain
methods of agricuiture. Almost the entire smmmer is spent hy
them upon the plains. where they carry on the pursuit of the Lutido
in large and well organized Lands. bringing the produce of their
hunt to trade with the Hudson Bay Company.

In winter they generally reside at their settlements, going to
the nearer plains in small parties and dragging in the frozen
hhaffly meat for the supply of the Company's posts. This prefur-
ence for the wild Hie of the prairies. by bringing them imore in
contact with their savage brethren. and by removing them trom
the means of acquiriug knowlege and civilization. has tended in
no small degree to throw them back in the social scale. aud to
muke the establishment of a prosperous colony almost an impoussi-
hility—even starvation. that must potent inducement to toil. seems
powerless to promote habits of indnstry and agriculture. During
the winter season they frequently undergo periods of great priva-
tion. but. like the Indian. they refuse to credit the grulnal extinetion
of the buffide. and persist in still depending on that animal for
their food. Were [to sum up the general character of the Saskut-
echewan half-breed population, T would say: They are gay, Mie.
dissipated. unreliable, and ungrateful, in a measure brave. hasty to
form conclusions and quick to act upon them. possessing extra-
ordinary power of endurance, and capable of undergeing immense
fatiene. yet scarcely ever to be depeuded on in critical moments,
superstitious and ignorant. having a very deep-rovted distaste to
any fixed employment. opposed to the Indian. yet widely seymrated
from the white man—altogether a race presenting. T fear. a hope-
less prospect to those who would attempt to frame, from such
materials, a future nationality. In the appendix will be found a
statement showing the population aud extent of the half-breed
settlements in the West. I will bere merely remark that the
principal settlements are to be found in the Cpper Saskatchewan,
in the vieinity of Edmouton House, at which post their trade is
chieily carried on.

Ameng the French halftbreed population there exists the same
politieal feeling which is te Ta found among their brethren hs
Manitoba, and the same sentiments which produced] the outbreak
of 1869-70 are wieloubtedly existing In the small communities of

Bed THE GREAT LONE LAND.

the Saskatchewan. It is na easy matter to understand how the
feeling of distrust towards Canada. and a certain hesitation to
accept the Dominion Government, first entered into the mind of
the balf-breed. but undoubtedly such distrust and hesitation Lave
made themselves apparent in the Upper Saskatchewan. as in Red
River. though ina much less formidable degree: in fact, T may fairly
eluse this notice of the half-breed population hy observing that an ex-
act counterpart of French political feeling in Manitoba may be found
in the territory of the Saskatchewan, but kept in abeyance both by
the isolation of the various settlements, as well as by a certain dread
of Indian attack which presses equally upon all classes.

The next clement of which I would speuk is that canrposed of the
white settler, European and American. not being servants of the Hud-
son Bay Company. Atthe present time this clasyis numerically insig-
nificunt. and were it not that causes might at any mument arise which
would rapidly develope it into consequence, It would not now claim
nore than a passiug notice. These causes are to be found in the
existenee of gold thronghvut a large extent of the territory lying at
the eastern base of the Rocky Mountains, and in the effect which
the discovery of gold-fields would have in inducing a rapid move-
ment of miners from the already over-worked fields of the Pacific
States and British Culumbia. For some years back indications of
gold, in more or less quantities, have been found in almost every
river running east from the mountains. On the Peace, Arthabases.
McLeod. and Pembina Rivers, all of which drain their waters into
the Arctic Ocean, as well as on the North Saskatchewan, Red
Deer. and Bow Rivers, which shed to Lake Winnipeg. gold has
been discoverel. The obstacles which the miner has to contend
with are. however, very great, and preclude any thing but the most
partial examination of the country. The Biackfeet are especially
hostile towards miners, and never hesitate to attack them. nor is the
zuiner slow to retaliate; indeed he has been too frequently the
aggressur, and the records of gold discovery are full of horrible
atrocities committed upon the red man. It has only been in the
neighbourhood of the forts of the Hudson Bay Company that
continued washing tor guld could be carried on. In the neighbour-
hood of Edmonton from three to twelve dollars of gold have fre-
quently been “washed “ in a single day by one man ; but the miner
is not satisfied with what he culls “dirt washing,” and craves for
the more exciting work in the dry diggings where, if the “ strike” is
good, the yield is sometimes enormous, The difficulty of procuring
provisions or supplies of any kind has also prevented “ prospecting ”

APPENDIX. 365

parties from examining the head-waters of the numerous streams
which form the sources of the North and South Saskatchewan. It
is not the high price of provisions that deters the miner from penc-
trating these regions. but the absolute impossibility of procuring
any. Notwithstanding the many difficulties which I have enume-
rated. a very determined effort will in all probability be made, during
the coming sunimer, to examine the head-waters of the North Brauch
of the Saskatchewan. A party of miners, four in number, crossed)
the mountuains late in the autumn of 1570, and are now wintering
Detween Edmonton and the Mountain House. having laid in large
supplies for the coming season. These men speak with confidence
of the existenee of rich diggings in some portion of the country lying
within the outer range of the monntuins. From conversations
which I have hehl with these men. as well as with others who have
partly investigated the conntry. I am of opinion that there exists a
very strung probability of the discovery of gold-fields in the Upper
Saskatchewun at no distant period. Should this opinion be well
founded, the effect which it will have upoa the whole Western terri-
tory will be of the ntmost consequence.

Despite the hostility of the Indians inhabiting the neighbourhood
of such discoveries, or the plains or passes leading to them. a
general influx uf miners will take place into the Saskatchewan,
aud in their track will come the waggon or pack-horze of the
merchant from the towns of Benton or Koutenais, or Helena. Tt is
impossible to say what effect such an influx of strangers would have
upon the plain Indians; but of one fact we may rest assured,
namely, that should these tribes exhibit their usual spirit of robbery
and murder they would quickly be exterminated by the miners.

Every where throughout the Pacitic States and along the central
territories of America, as well as in our own colony of British
Columbia, a war of extermination has arisen. under such cireum-
stances. between the miners and the savages, and there is good
reason to suppose that similar results would follow contact with the
proverbially hostile tribe of Blackfeet Indians.

Having in the foregoing remarks reviewed the various clemeuts
which compose the scanty but widely extended population of the
Saskatchewan. outside the circle of the Hudson Bay Company. 1
have now to refer to that body, as far as it is connected with the
preseut condition of affairs in the Saskatchewan.

As u governing body the Hudson Bay Company bas ever had to
contend against the evils which are inseparable from mouupoly of
trade combined with monopoly of judicial power, but xo long as the

366 THE GREAT LONE LAND.

aboriginal inhabitants were the only people with whom it came in
contact its authority could be preserved; and as it centred within
itself whatever knowledge and erlightenment existed in the country.
its vificials were regurded by the uboriginals as persons of a superior
nature. nay, even in bygone times it was by no means unusual for
the Indians to regard the possession of some of the most ordinary
inventions of civilization on the part of the officials of the Company
as clearly demonstrating a close affinity between these gentlemen
and the Manitou, nor were these attributes of divinity altogether
distasteful to the officers, who found them both remunerative as to
trade and conducive to the exercise of authority. When, however,
the Free Traders and the Missionary reached the Saskatchewan
this primitive state of affuirs ceased—with the enlightenment of the
sauvage came the inevitable discontent of the Indian. until there arose
the condition of things to which 1] have already alluded. Tam
aware that there are persous who, while admitting the present un-
satisfactory state of the Saskatchewan, aseribe its evils more to mis-
takes committed by officers of the Company, in their management
of the Tudians. than to any material change in the character of the
people; Lut I believe such opinion to be founded in error. It woull
iw impossible tu revert to the old management of aifairs. The
Judians and the half-Lreeds are aware of their strength, and openly
speuk of it: and although I ain far from asserting that a more deter-
mined policy on the part of the officer in charge of the Saskutche-
win District would not be attended by better results, still it is
upparent that the great isolation of the posts, as wellas the absence
ofany lighting element in the class of servants belonging to the
Company, render the forts un the Upper Saskatchewan, to a very
great degree, helpless, and at the mercy ofthe people uf that country.
Nor ure the engaged servants of the Company a class of persons
with whom it is at all easy to deal. Recruited principally from the
French half-Lreed population, and exposed, as I have already shown.
to the wild and lawless life of the prairies, there exists in reality

aly a very slight distinction between them and their Indian bre-
thren, hence itis not surprising that acts of insubordination should
Le of frequent occurrence among these servants, and that personal
violence towards superior officers should be by no means an unusual
event in the forts of the Saskatchewan; indeed it has only been by
the exercise of innuual force on the part of the officials in charye
that the semblance of authority has sometimes been preserved.
This tendeney towards insubordination is still more observable
umong the casual servants or “trip men” belongiag to the Com-

APPENDIX. 367

yiny. ‘These persons are in the habit of engaging for a trip or
journey, and frequently select the most critical moments to demand.
an increased rate of pay, or to desert ex masse.

At Edmonton House. the head-quarters of the Saskatchewan
District, and at the posts of Victoria and Fort Pitt, this slate of
Tawlessuess is more apparent than on the lower portion of the river.
Threats are freyuently made use of by the Indians and half-breeds
as a means of extorting favourable terms from the officers in charge,
the cattle belonging to the posts are uselessly killed, and altogether
the Hudson Bay Company may be said to retain their tenure of
the Upper Saskatchewan upon a base which appears insecure and
unsatisfactory. .

In the foregoing remarks I have entered at some length into the
question of the materials comprising the population of the Sas-
katchewan, with a view to demonstrate thut the condition of
affairs in that territory is the natural result of many causes, which
have Leen gradually developing themselves, and which must of
necessity undergo stil] further developments if left in their present
state. I have endeavoured to point out how from the growing wants
of the aboriginal inhabitants, from the conilicting nature of the
interests of the half-breed and Indian population, as well as from
the natural constitution of the Hudson Bay Company, a state of
society has arisen in the Saskatvchewan which threatens at no
distant duy to give rise to grave complications; and which now has
the effect of rendering life and property insecure and preventing
the settlement of those fertile regions which in other respects are so
adimirably suited to colonization.

As mutters at present rest. the region of the Saskatchewan is
without luw, order. or security for life or property; robbery and
murder for years have gone unpunished; Indian massacres are
unchecked even in the close vicinity of the Hudson Bay Company's
posts, and all civil and legal institutions are entirely unknown.

T now enter upon that portion of your Excellency’s instructions
which has reference to the epidemic of small-pox in the Saskatche-
won. Itis about fitty years since the Hirst great epidemic uf smull-
pox swept over the regions of the Missouri and the Saskatchewan.
committing great ravages among the tribes of Sioux. Gros-Ventres.
and Flatheads upon American territory; and among the Crees and
Assingboines of the British. The Blackfeet Indiaus escaped that
epideniic, while, on the vther hand, the Assineboines, or Stonies of
the Qu’Appelle Plains, were almost entirely destroyed. Since
that period the disease appears to have visited some of the tribes ab

368 THE GREAT LONE LAND.

intervals of greater or less duration, but uutil this and the previous
year its ravages were confined to certain localities and did not
extend universally throughout the country. During the summer
and early winter of “60 and "70 reports reached the Saskatchewan
of the prevalence of small-pox of a very malignant type among the
South Peagin Indians. a branch of the great Blackfeet nation. It
was hoped, however, that the disease would be confined to the
Missonri River, and the Crees who, as usual, were at war with their
traditional enemies, were warned by Missionaries and others that
the prosecutions of their predatory expeditions into the Blackfeet
country would in all probubility carry the infection into the North
Saskatchewau. From the South Peagin tribes, on the head-waters
of the Missouri, the disease spread rapidly through the Kindred
tribes of Blvod, Blackfect, and Lurcee Indians, all which new tribes
have their hunting-crounds north of the boundary-line. Unfortu-
nately fur the Crees, they failed to listen to the advice of those
persons who had recommended a suspension of hostilities. With
the opening of spring the war-parties commenced their raids:
a band of seventeen Crees penetrated, in the month of April. into
the Blackfeet country. and coming upon-a deserted camp of their
enemies in which a tent was still standing. they proceeded to ran-
suck it. This tent coutained the dead Lodies of some Blackfeet. and
although these bodies presented a very revolting spectacle, being in
an alyanced stage of decomposition. they were nevertheless subjected
to the usual process of mutilation, the scalps and clothing Leing
also carried away.

Hor this act the Crees paid a terrible penalty; scarcely had they
renhed their own country before the disease appeared among them
in its most virulent and infectious form. Nor were the consequences
of this raid less disastrous to the whole Cree nation. At the period
of the year to which I allude, the early summer, these Indians
usnally assemble together from different directions in large numbers,
and it was towardy one of those numerous assemblies that the
returning war-purty. still carrying the scalps and clothing of the
Blackfeet. directed ther steps. Almost inmediately upon their
arrival the disease broke ont amongst them in its most malignant
form, Out of the seventeen men who took part in the raid, it is
asserte] that not one escaped the infection, and only two of the
number appear toe have survived. The disease. once introduced into
the camp, spread with the utmost rapidity : nambers of men, women,
wl children fell victims to it during the month of June; the cures
of the medicine-men were found utterly unavailing to arrest it. and,

AVPENDIX. 369

us a last resource, the camp bruke up into small parties, some
directing their march towards Edmonton, and others to Victoria,
Saddle Lake. Fort Pitt, and along the whole line of the North
Saskatchewan. Thus, at the same period, the beginning of July,
small-pox of the very worst description was spread throughout
some 300 miles of territory, appearing almost stmultancously at the
Hudson Bay Company's posts trom the Rocky Mountain House to
Carlton.

It is difficult to imagine a state of pestilence more terrible than
that which kept pace with these moving parties of Crees during the
stmmer months of 1876. By streams and lakes. in willow copses.
and upon bare hill-sides, often shelterless from the fierce rays of the
summer sun and exposed to the rains and dews of night, the poor
plague-stricken wretches lay down to die—no assistance of any
kind. for the ties of family were quickly loosened, and mothers
abandoned their helpless children upon the wayside, flecing onward
to some fancied place of safety. The district lying between Fort
Pitt and Victoria, a distance of about 140 miles. was perhaps the
scene of the greatest suffermy.

In the immediate neighbourhood of Fort Pitt two camps of Crees
established themselves, at first in the hope of obtaining medical
assistance, and failing in that~—for the officer in charge soon ex-
hausted his slender store—they appear to have endeavoured to
convey the infection into the fort. in the belief that by doing so they
would cease to sniffer from it thenselves. The dead bodies were
left unburied close to the stockades, and frequently Indians in the
worst stage of the disease might be seen trying tv force an entrance
gnto the houses, or rubbing portions of the infectious matter from
their persons against the door-handles and window-frames of the
dwellings. It is singular that only three persons within the fort
should have heen infected with the disease, and I can only attribute
the comparative immunity enjoyed by the residents at that post to
the fact that Mr. John Sinclair had taken the precaution early in the
summer to vaccinate all the persons residing there. having obtained
the vaceine matter from a Saltcaux Indian who had been vaccinated
at the Mission of Prince Albert. presided over by Rev. Mr. Nesbit.
sometime during the spring. Iu this matter of vacuination a very
important difference appears to have existed between the Upper
and Lower Suxkatchewan, At the settlement of St. Albert, near
Exmouton, the opinion prevails that vaccination was of little or no
avail tu check the spread of the disease. while, on the contrary, resi-
dents on the lower portion of the Saskatchewan assert that ther

370 THE GREAT LONE LAND.

cannot trace a single case in which death had ensued after vaccinu-
tion had been properly performed. I attribute this difference of
opinion npou the Lenetits resulting from vaccination to the fact that
the vaccine matter used at St. Alert and Edmonton was of a
spurious description, having been brought from Fort Benton, on the
Missouri River, by traders during the early suminer, and that also
it was used when the disease had reached its height, while. on the
other hand, the vaccination carried on from Air. Nesbit’s Mission
appears to have been commenced early in the spring, and also to
have been of a genuine description.

At the Mission of St. Albert. called also “ Big Lake.” the disease
assumed a most mulignaunt form; the infection appears to have
been introduced into the settlement from two different sources
almost at the same period. The summer bunting-party met the
Blackfect on the plains and visited the Indian camp (then infected
with small-pox) fur the purpose of making peace and trading. A
few days later the disease appeared among them and swept olf
half their number in a very short space of time. To such a degree
of helplessness were they reduced that when the prairie fires broke
out in the neighbourhood of their camp they were unable to do any
thing towards arresting its progress or saving their property. The
fire swept through the camp. destroying a number of horses, carts,
and tents, and the unfortunate people returned to their homes at
Big Lake carrying the disease with them. About the same. ti:me-
some of the Crees also reached the settlement. and the infection
thus communicated from both quarters spread with amazing rapidity.
Out of a total pupulation uumbering about [00 souls, 660 caught
the disease. and up to the date of my departure from Edmonton
(22nd December) 311 deaths had occurred. Nor is this enormous
percentage of deaths very much to be wondered at when we consider
the circumstances attending this epidemic. The people, huddled
together in small hordes. were destitute of medical assistance or of
even the most ordinary reqnirements of the hospital. During the
period of delirium incidental to smail-pox, they frequently wandered
forth at night into the open air, aud remained exposed for hours to
dew or rain; in the latter stages of the disease they took no pre-
cautions against cold, and frequently died from relapse produced
Ly exposure: on the other hand, they appear to have suffered Lut
little pain after the primary fever passed away. “I have tre-
quently,” says Pére André, “asked a man in the last stages of small-
pox, whose end was close at hand, if he was suffering much pain;
and the almost invariable reply was. ‘None whatever.” They seem

APPENDIX. 37]

alxo to have died without suffering, ulthongh the tearfully swollen
wuppearance of the face, upon which svarcely a feature was visible,
would lead to the supposition that such a condition must of neces-
sity be accompanied by great pain.

The circumstances attending the progress of the epidemic at
Carlton House are worthy of notice, both on account of the extreme
virulence which characterized the disease at that post. and alse as
no official reverd of this visitation of small-pox would be complete
which failed to bring to the notice of your Excellency the mdaunted
heroism displayed Ly a young officer of the Hudson Bay Company
who was in temporary charge of the station. At the breaking ont
of the disease. early in the month of August, the population of
Carlton numbered about seventy souls. Of these thirty-two persons
caught the infection, and twenty-eight persons died. Throughout the
entire period of the epidemic the officer already alluded to. Mr.
Wh. Traill, laboured with untiring perseverance in ministering to
the necessities of the sick, at whose bedsides he was to be found
both day and night, undeterred by the fear of infection, and undis-
mayed by the unusuully loathsome nature of the disease. To esti-
mate with any thing like uccuracy the losses caused among the
Indian tribes is a matter of consideralte difficulty. Some tribes

-and portions of tribes sutiered much more severely than others.
That most competent authority, Pére Lacombe. is of opinion that
neither the Blood nor Blackteet Indians had, im proportion to their
numbers, as many cusualties as the Crees, whose losses may be
safely stuted at from G00 to 800 persons. The Lureees, a small
tribe in close alliance with the Blackfeet, suffered very severely, the
number of their tents being reduced from fifty to twelve. On the
other hand, the Assincboines, or Stonies of the Plains, warned by the
memory of the former epidemic, by which they were almost anni-
hilated, fled at the first approach of the disease, and, keeping fur ont
in the south-eastern prairies, escaped the Infection altogether.
The very heavy loss suffered by the Lureves to which T have just
alluded was, I apprehend, due to the fact that the members of this
tribe have long been noted as persons possessing enfeelsled vousti-
tutions, as evidenced by the prevalence of goitre almost universally
amongst them. As a singular illustration uf the intractable nature
of these Indians, I would meution that at the period when the
small-pox was most destructive among them they still continued to
carry on their horse-stealing raids against the Crees und halt-breeds
in the neighbourhood of Victoria Mission. It was not unusual to
come upon traces of the disease . the corn-fields around the settle-
BD«a

372 THE GREAT LONE LAND.

ment. and even the dead bolies of some Lurcees were discovered in
the vicinity ofa river which they had been in the habit of swhnming
while in the prosecution of their predatory attacks. The Rocky
Mountain Stonies are stated to have lost over fifty sonls. ‘The
Jossex sustained by the Blood. Bhickfeet, and Peagin tribes are
merely emnjectural: but. as their loss in leading men or chiefs has
heun heavy. it is only reasonable to presume that the casualties
suffered generally by those tribes have been proportionately severe.
Only three white persons appear to have fallen victinis to the disease
—one am olfieer of the Hudson Bay Company service at Carlton.
and two inembers uf the family of the Rev. Mr. McDougall. at Vie-
toria. Altogether, I shonh] be inclined to estimate the entire loss
along the North Saskatchewan. not inclnding Blood. Blackfeet, or
Peagin Indians, at about 120) persons. At the period of my depar-
ture from the Suskatchewun. the beginning of the present year, the
Gsease which committed such terrible havoc among the scanty
population of that region still lingered in many localities. On my
upward journey to the Rovky Mountains I had found the forts of
the Hudson Bay Company free from infection. Ou my return
journey T found cases of smill-pox in the Forts of Edmonton. Vie-
toria. avd Pitt—cases which. it is true. were of a milder description
than these of the autumn and summer. but which. nevertheless,
boded il fur the hoped-for disappearance of the plague beneath the
snows and cull of winter, With regard to the supply of merlicine
seut by direction of the Beard of Health in Manitoba to the Sas-
katehewan. J bave only to remark that [ conveyed to Edmonton the
portion of the supply destined for that station. It was found, how-
ever, that many of the bortles had been much injured Ly frost, and
Teannet in any way favourably notice either the composition or
general selection of these supplies.

Amongst the many sad traces of the epidemic existing in the
Upper Saskatchewan I know of none so touching as that which is
to be found in an assemblage of some twenty little orphan children
gathered together beneath the roof of the sisters of charity at the
settlement of St. Albert. These children ure of all races, an even
in some instances the sule survivors of what was lately a numerous
fiunily. ‘They are fed, clothed, and taught at the expense of the
Mission; and when we consider that the war which is at present
raging In France has dried up the sources of charity from whence
the Missions of the North-west derived their chief support, and that
the present winter is one of unusual scarcity and distress along the
North Saskatchewan, then it will be perceived what a fitting object

APPENDIX. 373

for the assistance of other communities is now existing in this
distant orphanage of the North.

I cuunot close this notive of the epidemic without alluding to the
danger which will arise in the sprmg of Introducing the infection
into Manitoba. As soon as the prairie route becomes practicable
there will be much traffic to and from the Saskatchewan—furs and
robes will be introduced into the settlement despite the Jaw which
prohibits their importation. The present quarantine establishinent
at Rat Creck is situated tuo near to the settlement to admit of a
strict enforeement of the sanitary regulations. It was only in the
month of October last year that a man coming direct from Carlton
died at this Rat Creek, while Lis companions, who were also trom
the same place, and from whom he caught the infection. passed on
into the province. If I might suggest the course which appears
to me to be the most efficacious, I would say that a constable
stationed at Fort Ellice during the spring and summer months, who
woul] examine freighters and others. giving them bills of health to
enable them to enter the province, would effectually meet the
reyuirements of the situation. AT) persons coming from the West
are oblige: to pass close to the neighbourhood of Fort Ellice. This
station is situated about 170 miles west of the provincial boundary.
and about 300 miles south-east of the South Saskatchewan, furming
the only post of call upou the road between Carlton and Portase-
la-Prairie. I have only to add that, unless vaccination Is made
compulsory among the half-breed inhabitants. they will, 1 fear. be
slow to avail themselves of it. It must not be forgotten that with
the disappearance of the snow trom the plains a quantity of infected
matter--clothing. robes, and portions of skeletons—will agam be-
come exposed to the atmosphere. and algo that the skins of wolves,
&e.. collected during the present winter will be very liable to contain
infection uf the most virulent description.

The portion of your Excellency’s instructions which has reference
to the Indiau tribes of the Assineboine and Saskatchewan regions
now claims my attention.

The aboriginal inhabitants of the country lying hetweer Red
River and the Rocky Mountuins are divided into tribes of Salteanx.
Swampies. Crees. Axsineboines, or Stonies of the Plains. Blackfeet
and Assinchomes of the Mountains. A. simpler classifieution. aud
one which will be found more useful when estimating the relative
hibits of these tribes. is to divide them inte two great classex of
prairie Indians and Thickwood Judisns—the first comprising the
Blackleet with their kindred tribes of Bloods, Lurcees, and Pengins,

374 THE GREAT LONE LAM.

as alsa thy: Crees of the Saskatchewan and the Assineloines of €he
Oo Ar gelles and the lust Leing composed of the Rocky Mouniaiz
Mtonies. the Swampy Crees. amd the Salteauy of the country lyr
between Mauiteba and Fort Ellice. This classification marks in
reality the distinetive characteristics of the Western Indians, On
the one hand. we find the Prairie tribes subsisting almost entirely
upon the buffalo. assembling tovether in lurge camps, acknow-
lelging the leadurship and authority of men conspicuous by their
abilities In war or in the chase, and carrying on a perpetual state of
warthre with the other Indians of the plains. On the other hand.
we find the Indians of the woods svlsisting by fishing and by the
pursuit of moose unl deer, living tugether in smal] parties, admitting
only a very nominal authority on the part of one man, professing ty
entertain hostile feclings towards certain races. but rarely developing
such feelings into positive hestilities—altogether a much more
jrntcefully dispesed pedple. because less exposed to the dangerous
intlucnee of large assemblies.

Commencing with the Salteaux. I find that they extend westward
from Portage-la-Prairie to Fert Ellice. and from thence north to

Fort Polly and the neighbourhood of Fort-i-la-Come. where they
border and mix with the kindred race of Swampy or Muskevo Crees.
At Portage-la-Vrairie and in the vicinity of Fort Ellice a few Sionx
have appeared since the outbreak In Minnesota and Dakota in 1862.
Tt is probable that the wimber of this tribe on British territory will
anumally Inerease with the proseention of railroad enterprise and
settlement m the northern portion of the United States. At pre-
sent. however. the Sionx are strangers at Fort Ellice, and have not
yet assume those rights of proprictership which other tribes, longer
resident, arragute to themselves.

The Salteaux, who inhabit the country lying west of Manituba,
yeurtake partly of the character of Thickwood and partly of Prairie
Ludians—the Luffilo no Jonyer exists in that portion of the country.
the Indian camps are small, and the authority of the chief merely
nominal, The langnage spoken by this tribe is the same dialect of
the Algonquin tongne which is used in the Lac-la-Plnie District
and throughont the greater portion of the settlement.

Passing north-west from Fort Ellice. we enter the conntry of the
Cree Indians, having to the nerth and east the Thiekwood Crees,
and te the south and west the Phin Crees. The foriner, under the
Variens nanies of Swampies or Muskego Tidians. inhabit the country
west of Lake Winnipeg, extending as far as Forts Pelly and h-la-
Cornc, and from the latter place, j in a north-westerly direction, to

we
Wat

APPENDIX.

Carlton and Fort Pitt. Their lanyuaye. which is similar to that
spoken by their consins. the Plain Crees, is also a dialect of the Al-
genqnin tongue. They are seldom found in large numbers. usually
forming camps of from four to ten families. They carry on the
pursuit of the moose and red deer, and are, generally speaking,
expert lunters and trappers.

Bordering the Vhiekwood Crees on the south and west Tes the
country of the Plain Crees—a land of vast treeless expanses, of high
rolling prairics. of wuoded tracts lying in valleys of many-sized
streams, in a word, the land of the Saskatchewan. A line running
direct from the Touchwood Hilly to Edmonton Honse would mea-
svre 50) miles in length. yet would lie altogether within the country
ofthe Plain Crees. They inhabit the prairies which extend from
the Qu’Appelle to the South Saskatchewan, a portion of territory
which was formerly the lund of the Assineboine. but which became
the country of the Crees through lapse of time and chance of war.
From the elhow of the South Branch of the Saskatchewan the Cree
nation extends ina west and north-west direction to the vicinity
of the Peace Hills, sume fifty iniles south of Edmonton. Along the
entire Hine there exists astate of perpetua] warfare during the mouths
of summer and antumn. for here commences the territory over which
roums the great Blackfeet tribe, whose southern boundary lies be-
yond the Missouri River, and whose western limits are gnarded by
the giant peaks of the Rocky Mountains. Ever since these tribes
became known to the fur-traders of the North-west and Hutson
Bay Companies there bas existed this state of hostility amongst
them. The Crees. having been the first to obtain fire-urms from the
white traders. qnickly extended their boundaries, and moving froin
the Hudson Bay and the region of the Jakes overran the plains
ofthe Upper Saskatchewan. Fragments of other tribes scattered
at long intervals through the present country of the Crees attest
this conquest, and it is probable that the whole Indian territory
lying between the Saskatchewan aud the American boundary-line
would have been dominated over by this tribe had they not found

themselves opposed by the great Blackfeet nation, which dwelt

along the sources of the Missouri.

Passing west from Edmonton. we enter the country of the Rocky
Mountain Stonies. a small trike of Thiekwood Indians dwelling
along the source of the North Saskatchewan and in the outer ranges
of the Rocky Mountains,~—-a fragment, no doubt, from the once
powerful Assinehuine nation which has found a refage amidst the
forests and meuutains of the West. This tribe is noted as possess-

376 THE GREAT LONE LAND.

jug hunters and mountain guides of great energy and skill. Al-
though at war with the Blackfeet. collisions are not frequent between
them, as the Assineboimes never go upon war-parties: and the
Blackfeet rarely venture into the wonled country. .

Having spoken in detail of the Indian tribes inhabiting the line
of fertile country lying between Red River and the Rocky Moun-
tains. it only remains for me to allude tu the Blackfeet with the con-
federate tribes of Blood. Lureees and Pexgins. These tribes inhabit
the wreat plains lying Letween the Red Deer River and the Mis-
souri, a vast tract of country which, with few exceptions, is arid,
treeless, and sandy—a. portion of the true American desert, which
extends from the fertile belt of the Saskatchewan to the Vorders of
Texas. With the exception of the Lurcees, the other confederate
tribes speak the same language—the Lurcees. being a branch of the
Chipwayans ofthe North. speak a langnage peculiar to themselves,
while at the same time understunding and speaking the Blackfeet
tongue. At war with their hereditary enemies, the Crees, upou
their northern and eastern bonndaries—at war with Kootanais aud
Flathead tribes on south and west—at war with Assineboines on
south-eust and north-west—carrying on predatory exearsions
against the Americans on the Missouri, this Blackfeet nation forms
a people of whom it may truly be said that they are against every
man, and that every man is against them. Essentially a wild, law-
less. erring race. whose natures have received the stamps of the re-
gion in whieh they dwell: whose knowledge is read from the great
book which Day, Night, and the Desert unfold to them; and who
yet possess a ride eloquence. a savage pride. and a wild love of free-
dum of their own. Nor are there other indications wanting to lead
to the hope that this tribe may yet be found to he capable of yield-
ing to inilnences to which they have heretofore been strangers,
namely, Justice and Kindness.

Inhabiting, as the Blackfeet do, a large extent of country which
from the arid nature of its soil must ever prove useless for purposes
of settlement and colonization. I do not apprehend that much diffi-
culty will arise between them and the whites. provided always that
measures are taken to guard against certain possibilities of danger.
and that the Crees are made to understand that the forts and settle-
ments along the Cpper Saskatchewan must be considered as neutral
ground upon which hostilities cannot be waged against the Black-
feet. As mutters at present stand, whenever the Blackfeet venture
in upon a trading expedition to the forts of the Hudson Bay
Company they are generally assaulted by the Crees, and savagely

APPENDIN. 377

murdered. Pére Lacombe estimates the number of Blackfeet killed
in and around Edmonton alone during his residence in the West. at
over forty meu, and he has assured me that to his knowledge the
Blackteet have never killed a Cree at that place. except in self
defence. Mr. W. J. Christie. chief factor at Edmonton House.
coufirms this statement. He says. “~The Blackfeet respect the
whites more than the Crees do, that isa Blackfoot will never at-
tempt the life of a Cree ut our forts, and Lands of them are more
easily controlled iu an excitement than Crees. It would be easier
for one of us to save the life of a Cree among a band of Blackteet
than it would be to save a Blackfoot in a Lund of Crees.” In con-
sequence of these repeate | assaults In the vicinity of the forts, the
Blackfeet can with difficulty be persuaded that the whites are net
in active alliance with the Crees. Any person who studies the geo-
graphical position of the posts of the ndsou Bay Company can-
not fail to notice the immense extent of country rotervening between
the North Saskatchewan and the American boundary-line in
which there exists no fort or trading post of the Company. This
blank space upon the maps is the country of the Blackfeet. Many
years ago a post was established upon the Bow River, in the heart
of the Blackfect country, but at that time they were even more luw-
less than at present, and the position had to be abandoned on ac-
count of the expenses uecessary to keep up a large garrison of ser-
vants. Since that time (nearly forty years ago) the Blackfeet have
only had the Rocky Mountain House to depend on for supplies. and
as it is situated fur from the centre of their country it only receives
a portion of their trade. Thus we find a very active Lusiness carried
on by the Americans upon the Upper Missouri. and there van be little
doubt that the greater portion of robes. buffulo leather, &e., traded by
the Blackfeet finds its way down the waters of the Missouri. There is
also another point connected with American trade amongst the Black-
feet to which I desire to draw special attention, Indians visiting the
Rocky Mountain House during the full of 1870 have spoken of
the existence of a trading post of Amerivans from Fort Benton.
upon the Belly River. sixty miles within the British Lowndary-
line. ‘They have asserted that two American traders, well-known
on the Missouri, named Culverston and Healy. have estublixhed
themselves at this post tor the purpose of trading alcchol. whiskey.
and arms and ammunition of the most improved description. with
the Blacktect Indians; and that an active trade is Deing carried
on in all these articles, which, it is said. are constantly smuggled
across the boundary-line by people from Fort Benton. This story

378 THE GREAT LONE LAND.

is apparently confirmed hy the absence of the Blackfeet from the
Rocky Mountain House this season. and also from the fact of the
wins In question (repeating rifles) being found in possession of
these Tivtians. ‘The town of Benton on the Missouri River has
long been noted for supplying the Indians with arms and amumni-
tion: to such an extent has this trade Leen carried] on, that miners
in Montana. who have suffered from Indian attack. bave threatened
on seme occasions to burn the stores belonging te the traders, if
the practice was continue Lb have already speken of the great
extent of the Blackfeet country: seme idea of the roumings of
these hnlians may be gathered from a circumstance connected with
the trade of the Rocky Mountain Hense. During the spring and
stunmer raids which the Blackfeet nake upon the Crees of the
Middle Saskatchewan.a munber of horses belonging te the Dudson
Bay Company and to settlers are yearly carried away. It is a
general practice for persons whose horses have been stolen to send.
during the fall te the Rocky Mountain House for the missing
anitnds, althonel that station Is 300 tu 600 miles distant from
the places where the thefts have been committed. If the horse
has not perished frum the ill treatment to which he has been
subjected by his captors, he is usually fonnd at the above-named
station. to which be has been brought for barter in a terribly worn-
out condition. Inthe Appendix marked B will be tound information
reearding the localities oeenpied by the Indian tribes. the names
of the principal clicts. estimate of mambers in each tribe, and other
information connected with the aboriginal inhabitants, which for
sake of clearness I have arranged in a tabular form.

Tt now only remains for me to refer to the ast clause in the
instructions under which I acted. before enteriug into an expression
of the views which ] have formed upon the subject of what appears
necessary to be dene in the interests of peace and order in the
Saskatchewan. The fhr trade of the Saskatchewan District has
long Teen in a declining state. great scarcity of the richer de-
scriptions of furs. competition of free traders. and the very heavy
expenses Incurred. in the maintenance of large establishments, have
combined to render the district a source of loss to the Hudson
Bay Comypany. This loss has, I believe. varied aunually from
20007, te Geudd, but heretofore it has been somewhat counter-
balanced by the fet that the Jand ‘Transport Line of the Company
was dependent for its supply of provisions upon the Duffle meat.
which of late years has only heen procurable in the Saskatchewan.
Now, however. that buifilo can no longer be procured in numbers,

APPENDIX. 379

the Upper Saskatchewan becomes more than ever a Imrden to
the Hudson Bay Company; still the abandonment of it by the
Company might be attended by more serious loss to the trade than
that which is incurred in its retention, Undonltedly the Saskat-
ehewan, if abandoned by the Hudson Bay Company. would be
speedily ocenpied by traders from the Missouri, who would alse
tap the trade of the richer fio-producing districts of Lesser Slave
Lake and the North. The products of the Saskatchewan proper
principally consists of provisions, incliling peminivan and dry ment.
Inffalo robes and leather. linx. cat. and wolf skins. The richer
furs. such as otters, minks. beavers. martins. &e.. are chietly pro-
eured in the Lesser Slave Lake Division of the Saskatchewan
District. With regard to the subject of Free Trade in the Saskat-
chewan, it is at present conductel upon principles qnite different
from those existing in Manitoba. The free men or ~ winterers~
arg. strictly speaking. free traders. }nt they dispose of the preuter
portion of their fnrs. robes, &e.. to the Company. Some. it is trae.
carry the produce of their trade or hant (for they are both hunters
aud traders) to Red River, disposing of it to the merchants in
Winnipex. but 1 de not imagine that inore than one-third of their
trade thus finds its way into the market. These free men are
nearly all French half-breeds. and are mostly outfitted by the
Company. Tt has frequently occurred that a very considerable
trade hus been curied on with alcohol. brought hy free men from
the Settlement of Red River. and distributed to Indians and others
in the Upper Saskatchewan. This trade has been productive of
the very worst consequences, but the Jaw prohibiting the sale or
possession of Hynor is now widely known throughout the Western
territory. and its beneticial effects have already Leen experienced.

I feel convinced that if the proper means are taken the sup-
pression of the Liquor trafic of the West can be easily accom-
plished.

A very important subject is that which has reference to the
communication between the Upper Saskatchewan and Missoenri
Rivers.

Fort Benton on the Missouri has of late become a place of very
considerable importance as a pest for the supply of the mining
districts of Montana. Its geourayhical position is favourable.
Standing at the head of the navigation of the Missouri. it commands
the trade of Idaho and Montana. A. steamboat. without Dreaking

bulk. can go from New Orleans to Benton. a distance of 4000 imiles.
Speaking from the recollection of information obtained at Omaha

380 THE GREAT LONE LAND.

three years ago. it takes about thirty days to ascend the river from
that town to Bentun, the distance being wbout 2000 miles. Ouly
boats druwing two ur three feet of water can perform the jowney,
as there are many shoals and shifting sands to glstract: heavier
vessels. It has been estimated that between thirty or forty steam-
buats reached Benton during the course of last summer. The
season, for purposes of navigation, may be reckoned as having 2
duration of about fonr months. Let us now travel north of the
American boundary-line, and see what effect Benton is likely to
produce upon the trade of the Saskatchewan. Edmonton lies
MIF. from Benton about 570 miles. Carlton about the same
distance north-cast. From loth Carlton and Edmonton to Fort
Benton the country presents no obstacle whatever to the passuge
of loaded carts or wageguns. but the ruad from Edmonton is free
trom Biackfeet during the summer months, and is better provided
with wood and water. For the first time im the history of the
Saskatchewan. carts passed sufely from Edmonton to Benton during
the course of last summer. These carts, ten In number, started
from Edmonton In the month of May. bringing furs, robes. &e., to
the Missouri. They returned in the mouth of Inne with a cargo
consisting of flour and alevhol.

The furs and robes renlized good prices, and altogether the
journey was so successful as to hold out high inducements to other
persons to attempt it during the coming summer. Already the
merchants of Beutou are bidding high for the possession of the
trade of the Upper Saskatchewan. and estimates have been received
by missionaries offering to deliver goods at Edmonton for 7
(Asnerican curreney) per 100 Ibs., all risks being insured. In fact
it has only been on account of the absence of a frontier custom-
house that Importutions of bouded goods have not already been
made cig Benton.

These facts speak for themselves.

Without doubt. if the natural outlet to the trade of the Saskat-
vhewan, namely the River Suskatchewan itself, remains in its pre-
sent neglected state. the trade of the Western territury will seek
a new source. and Beuton will become to Edmontun what St. Paul
in Minnesota is to Manitoba,

With a view to bringing the regiuns of the Saskatchewan into
a state of order and seenrity, and to establish the authority and
jurisdiction of the Dominion Government, as well as to promote
the colonization of the country known as the “ Fertile Belt,” aud
particularly to guard against the deplorable evils arising out of an

APPENDIN. 381

Indian war. I would recommend the following course for the
consideration of your Excellenvy. Ist—Tbe appvintment of a
Civil Magistrate or Commissioner. after the model of similar ap-
pointments in Treland aud in India. This official would be required
tu make semi-mmual tours through the Saskatchewan for the
purpose of holding courts; be would be assistel mm the discharge
of his judicial functions by the civil magistrates of the Hudson
Bay Cumpany who have been already nominated. and by others yet
to he appointed from umongst the most Influential and respected
persons of the French and English laltbreed population. This
officer should reside in the Upper Saskatchewan.

2ad. The orgunization of a well-equipped force of from 100 to 150
men, one-third to be mounted. specially recruited and engaged for
service in the Saskatchewan ; enlisting for two orthree years’ service.
anudat expiration of that period te become military settlers, receiving
grants of land, but still remaining as a reserve force should their
services be reyuired.

3rd. The establishment of two Government stations. one on the
Upper Saskatchewan, in the neighbourhood of Edmouton. the other
at the junctions of the North and South Branches of the River Sas-
katchewan. below Carlton. The establishment of these stations to
be followed by the extinguishment of the Indian title, within certain
limits, to be deterurived by the geographical features of the locality :
for instance, say from longitude of Carlton House eastward to
Janetion of two Saskatvhewans. the northern and southern Tnnits
being the river hanks. Again. at Edmonton, I would recommend
the Government to take possessiun of both banks of the Saskatche-
avan River, trom Edmonton House to Victoria, a distance of abont
80 miles, with a depth of. say. from six to eight miles. The districts
thns taken possession of would immediately Decome aviilalle for
settlement. Government titles being given at rates which would
induce immigration. These are the three general propositions, with
a few additions to be mentioned hereafter, which I Leleve will, if
acted upon, secure peace and order to the Saskatchewan, enconrage
settlement. and open upto the intinences of civilized man one of the
fairest regions of the earth. For the sake of clearness, I have em-
bodied these three suggestions in the shortest possible forms. 1
will now review the reasons which recommend their adoption and
the benefits likely to accrue from them.

With reference to the first snggestion, namely, the appointment
of a resident magistrate. or civil commissioner, I would merely
observe that the general report which I have already made on the

382 THE GREAT LONE LAND.

subject of the state of the Saskatchewan. as well as the particular
statement tv be fouml in the Appendix marked D, will be sufficient
to prove the necessity of that appointment. With regard. however.
te this appointment as connected with the other sugeestion of
military foree and Government stations or districts, [have much
tuadvance. The first pressing necessity is the establishment. as
speedily as possible, of some ¢ivil anthority which will give a distinct
wud tangible idea of Government to the native and half-breed popn-
latiun. new so totally devurl of the knowledge of what law and civil
government may pertain tu. The establishment of such an autho-
rity. distinct from, and independent of. the Hudson Bay Compuny,
as well as from any missionary budy situated in the country, woukl
inangurate a new series of events, a commencement, as it were, of
civilization in these vast rewivus. free from all ussogiations connected
with the former history of the conutry, and separate from the rival
sYstems of missionary evterprise, while at the same time lending
countenance and support to all, Withont some imaterial furee to
render ubligutory the ordinances of such un authority matters would,
L believe. become even worse than they ire at present, where the
wrongedocr dogs net appear tu vielate any law, becuse there is no
Jaw to vielute. On the other hand. 1 am strongly of opivion that
any military force which would merely be seut to the forts of the
Hfudson Bay Company would prove ouly @ source of useless expen-
diture to the Duminion Government, leaving inatters in very much
the sane state as they exist ut present. wfording little protection
outside the immediate cirele of the forts in question. hulding out uo
ivlucements tu the establishment of new settlements. and liable to
le mistaken by the ignorant peopl: of the country for the hired
defenders of the Hudson Bay Company. Thus it seeins to me that
foree without distinet civil government would be useless, and that
civil goverminent wonld be powerless without a material force.
Agiiu. as to the parchase of Indian rights upon certain leslities
amd the formation of settlements, it must be borne iu mind that uo
settlement Is pussilly in the Saskatchewan until some such plan is
adopter

People will net build houses, rear stock, or cultivate und in places
where their cattle are Hable tu be kMled and their crops stolen. Tt
must also be remembered that the Saskatchewan offers at present
not only a aimeniticeut soil wud a fine climate. but also a market for
all farming produce ut rates which are exorbituntly high. For in-
stimee, flour sells froin 2d. 10s. to 52. per 100 ]bs,; potatoes from
as, to 7s. a bushel; and other commodities in preportion, No

IQ?

APPENDIX. JOD

apprehension need be entertained that snch settlements would
remain isulitted establishments, There are at the present time
many persons scattered through the Saskutchewan who wish to
hecome firmers and settlers. but hesitate to do se in the absence of
protuction and seeurity. These persons are old servants of the
Hudson Buy Company who have made movey. or hunters whose
lives hive been passed iu the great West, and who now desire to xettle
down, Nor wonkd another class of settler be absent. Several of the
missionaries in the Saskatchewan have been in correspondence with
persons in Catuida who desire to seck a home in this western Jand.
but who have been advised to remiin in their present: country until
matters have become more settled vlong the Saskatchewan. The
advuntages of the localities which Ihave specitied, the jnuetion of
the branches of the Saskatchewan River and the neighbunrhond of
Exhnonton, may be stated as follows :~—Junctivn of north aud south
branch—a plice of great future military aud commer¢ial import-
ance, cumumunding navigation of beth rivers; enjoys a climate
suitable to the production of a// cereals and routs. and a soil of
unsurpassed fertility ; Is situated about midway between Red River
zud the Rocky Mountains. aud possesses abundant mul exeellent
supplies of timber for building und fuel: is before the prestaned
interruption to steam navigation on Saskatchewan River known
as * Coal Falls.” and is situated on direct curt-road from Manitoba
to Carlton.

‘Edmonton, the centre of the Upper Saskatchewan, also the centre
of a large population (halfbreed)j—conniry Iving between it and
Victoria very fertile, is within easy reach of Blackfeet. Cree. and
Assinehoine country: summer frosts often injurivus to wheat. but
all other crups thrive well, and even whvat is frequently a large and
productive crop; timber for fnel plenty. and for building can be
obtained in laree quantities ten miles distant: coal in Tnrge quian-
tities on bank of river, and gold at from three to ten dollars a day
in saw] bars.

Ouly one other subject remains for consideration (I presmne that
the establishment of regular mail commuuicution and steam. nvi-
gation would follow the wluption of the course L have recommended.
nud. therefore, have not thought fit to ditroduce them). and te that
subject Twill now allude before closing this Report. which has
already reached proportions very inuch Iurger than 1 had anti-
cipatedl, I refer te the Indian question. and the best mode of dealing
with it, As the wuilitary protection of the Tine of the Suskatehewan
against Indian attack would be a practical impossivility without 2

38-4. THE GREAT LONE LAND.

very great expenditure of monet. it Leeomes necessary that all pre-
cautions should be tuken tu prevent the outbreak of an Indian war,
which. if once cummmenced. could not fail tu be productive of evil
couseyuenees, I wonld urge the advisability of sending a Couunis-
sioner to meet the tribes of the Saskatchewan during their suanmer
assemblies,

It must be borne in mind that the real Indian Question exists
many hundred miles west of Maniteha, in a region where the red
min wields a power and an influence of his own. Upon one point
Twonld recommend particular caution, and that is, in the selection
of the individual for this purpose. 1 have heard a good deal of
persous who were suid to possess great knowledge of the Indian
character, and | have seen enough of the red man to estimate at its
real worth the possessiun of this knowledge. Knowledge of Judian
character has too long been synonymous with knowledge of how to
cheat the Tndiau—a species of cleverness which. even in the science
of chicanery, does net require the exercise of the highest abilities.
LT tear that the Indian has already had too many dealings with
persons of this class, und has now got a very shrewd idea that those
who possess this knowledge of his character have also managed to
possess themselves of his property.

With regard to the objects to be attended to Ly a Commission
of the kind J have referred te, the principal would be the esta-
Diishment of peace between the warring tribes of Crees and Black-
feet. To believe that a peace duly entered into. and signed by the
chiets of both nations, in the presence andl under the authority
of a Government Commissioner. with that show of ceremony and
display so dear to the mind of the Indian. would be lasting
in its effects. Sneha peace shonld he made on the Lasis of resti-
tution to Government in case of robbery. For instance. during
time of peace a Cree steals five horses from a Blacktoot. In that
case the particular branch of the Cree nation to which the thief
belonged would have to give up fea horses to Government, which
would be handed over to the Blackfect as restitution and atonement.
The idea of peace on some such understanding oveurred to me in the
Saskatchewan. and J questioned one of the most influential of the
Cree chiefs upon the subject. His answer to me was that his band
wonld agree tu such a proposal and abide by it. but that he could
uot speak forthe other bands. T would also recommend that medals,
such as there given to the Indian chiefs of Cunada and Luke
Superior many years ago, be distributed among the leading men of

APPENDIX. 385

the Plain Tribes. It is astonishing with what religious veneration
these large silver medals have been preserved by their owners
through all the vicissitudes of war and time, and with what pride
the well-polished effigy is still pointed ont, and the words “King
George” shouted hy the Indian, who has yet a firm belief in the
present existence of that monarch. Ifit should be devided that a
body of troops should be despatched to the West, I think it very
advisable that the officer iu command of such body should make
himself thoroughly acquainted with the Phin Tribes, visiting them
at least annually in their camps. and conferring with them on points
connected with their interest. 1 am also of opinion that if the
Government establishes itself in the Saskatchewan, a third posxt
should be formed. after the lapse of a year, at the junction of the
Medicine and Red Deer Rivers in latitude 52° 18’ north, and
longitude 11-19 15’ west, about {0 miles south of Edinonton. This
position is well within the Blackfeet country. possesses a good soil.
excellent timber, and commands the rvad to Benton. This post need
not be the ceutre of a settlement. Lut merely a military, customs,
missionary, and trading establishment.

Such, Sir, are the views which I have formed upon the whole
question of the existing state of affairs in the Saskatchewan. They
result from the thought and experience of many Jong days of travel
through a large portion of the region tu which they have reference.
TfT were asked from what point of view I have looked upen this
question, I would answer—From that pomt which sees a vast
country lying, as If were. silently awaiting the approach of the
immense wave of hnman life which rolls uneeasiugly from Earepe to
Ameriva. Far off as liv the regious uf the Suskatechewan from the
Atlantic sea-board on which that wave is threwn, remete as ary the
fertile glades which fringe the eastern slopes of the Roeky Afuun-
tuins, still that wave of human life is destined tu reach those veauti-
ful sulitudes, and to couvert the wild luxuriance of their now nselers
vegetation into all the requirements of civilized existence. And if
it be matter for desire that across this immense continent, resting
upon the two greatest oceans of the world. a powerful nation shontd
arise with the strength and the manhood whichyrace and clinute and
tradition would assign to it—a nation which would luck with no
evil eye upon the old mother land from when ce it sprung. a uation
which, having no bitter memories to recall, would have no idle preyu-
dices to perpetuate—then surely it is worthy of all toil of hand and
brain, on the part of those who to-day rule. that this great Jink in

38 THE GREAT LONE LAND.

the vhain of such a future uatiunality should no longer remain up-
develuped. a prey to the contlicts of savage races. ut once the
garden and the wilderness of the Central Continent.
W. TF. But.er.
Lieutenant, Oh Regiment.
Maxtiona, 10th Muceh, 1871.

APPENDIX A.
Settlements (Lalfrbreed) in Saskatchewan.

Prixce Asert.—English helfbreed. A Presbyterian Mis-
siun presided over by Rev. Mr. Nesbit. Small post of Iudson Bay
Company with large farm attached. On North Branch of Sas-
katchewan River. 35 miles above junction of Doth branches; a fine
soil, plenty of timber, and good wintering ground fur stock ; 50 miles
vast of Carlton, and 6U west of Fort-i-la-Corne.

VWiureesit Lake.—English. Wesleyan Mission—only a few
settlers ~soi]l good—timber plenty. Situated north-east of Victoria
6U miles.

Lac ta Bicne.—French half-breed. Roman Catholic Mission.
Large farm attached to mission with water grist mill, &e. Sui)
very good and timber abundant: excellent fishery. Situated at 70
uiiles north-west from Fort Pitt.

Victorisa.—English half-breed, Wesleyan Mission. Large farm,
svil good, altogether a rising little coluny. Situated on North
Branch of Saskatchewan River, St miles below Edmonton Mission,
presided over by Rev. J. McDougall.

St. Ansert.—French half-breed. Roman Catholic Mission and
residence of Bishop (Grandin); tine church building, school and
convent, &e, Previous to epidemic. 900 French, the largest settle-
ment in Saskatchewan; very little farming done, all hunters, Se.
Situated 9 niles north of Edmonton ; orphanage here.

Lac St. Ayse.—French half-breed. Roman Catholic. Settlers
mostly emigrated to St. Albert. Good fishery; a few farms existing
and doing well. Timber plenty. and soil (as usual) very guod 50
niles north-west from Edurenton,

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APPENDIX C.

Names uf persons whose appointment to the Commission of the
Peace would be recommended :—

All officers of Hudson Bay Company in charge of posts.

Mr. Chanletain, of St. Albert Mission. Edimyuton.

Mr. Brazeau, ” ”

Mr. McKenzie, of Victoria.

Mr. Ecurpote, Sen., residing near Carlton.

Mr. Win. Borwick, St. Albert Mission, Edmontev.

Mr. MeGillis, residing near Fort Pitt.

APPENDIX D.

List of some of the crimes which have been committed in Sas-
katchewan without investigation or punishment :—

Murder of 2 man named Whitford near Rucky Mountains.

Murder of George Daniels by George Robertson at White Mud
River, near Victoria. .

Murder of French balf-breed Ly his nephew at St. Albert.

Murder of two Lurcee lndiaus by bhalf-breed close to Edmonton
House.

Murderous attack upon a small party of Blackfeet Indians (men,
women, and children), made by Crees. near Edmonton, in April,
1s7u, by which several of the former were kHed and wounded. ‘Tus
attack ocurred after the satfuty of these Indians had Ween purchased
from the Crees hy the officer of the Hudson Bay Company in charge
at Edinonton, and a guard provided for their sufe passage across the
rivers. This guard, composed of French half-breeds from St. Albert,
vpened out to right and left when the attack commenced, and did
nothing towards saving the lives of the Blackfeet, who were nearly
wl killed or wounded. There is now living cluse to Edmonton a
woman who beat out the brains of a little child aged two years on
this oceasion; also a half-breed man whv is the foremost instigater
to all these atrocities. Besides these murders and ucts of vilence,
rubbery is of continual occurrence in the Saskatchewan. The out-
rages specified above have all teken place during the last few years.

GILBERY AND RIVINGTON, PRINTLES, ST. HOUENS SQUARE, LONDON,

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